A Bet's A Bet
by LiveLoveLaugh14
Summary: "Zabini, I swear to Merlin, if you say it, I will literally rip—" "-Hermione. Jean. Granger." Blaise enunciated, punctuating every word with a poke to Draco's chest. "That's right, Draco Malfoy. I bet you won't be able to get Goody-two-shoes Granger to fall in love with you by the end of this school year. Take that in your pumpkin juice and suck on it."
1. A Bet's A Bet

Author's Note: After having GUILTY PLEASURE taken down by the _lovely _people who run this site, I don't have that much to say anymore. Well not right now, at least. I just hope you all enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. Reviews are my favourite thing on this site. Just to let you know. ;)

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 1,697. (I personally find this useless information, but it looks quite cool, so what the hell.)

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (1) A Bet's A Bet.

- Insert shameless review begging here. -

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

"What the fuck."

Blaise was horrified. No, really, he was mortified.

The poor Italian was just making his way to the Slytherin changing rooms; day-dreaming of the restful night to follow, on his way there. He deserved a break after those long, agonising hours of brutal Quiditch practise, did he not?

And if it wasn't for the_ puke-worthy scene _infront of him,he would have been fast asleep in his bed by now, dreaming of that fit girl he'd noticed infront of Madame Pomfreys. Damn, he wouldn't mind giving _her_ a ride on his broo- _ahem._

So this scene, even though he'd seen similar ones involving the notorious Malfoy; reminded him why he always takes the long way to the Changing Rooms.

In front of his almost bleeding eyes, his bestmate Draconis Malfoy all but shagged a blonde bimbo up against a wall. The bleached bird with the huge - let's say bazoongas, for your sake, - pressed up against Malfoy's chest looked to be devouring his mouth...and other places.

Trying not to gag first, the young Zabini threw a pebble at them. It hit the whore under her eye, causing Blaise to fist pump the air. It seperated them, as she tore away from Malfoy, rubbing her cheek.

And then they were glaring at him, throwing curses and _owie_ noises - on behalf of the girl. Malfoy sneered at his roommate. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Zabini? Can't you go wank off somewhere else?"

"Well I would, wouldn't I - if I could get through the fucking halls without having to see you two blondes screw eachother."

Draco was about to retort when the girl next to him squeeled. "You hurt my eye! Draco! Do something!" Blaise noticed her crest. Slytherin. Typical.

"I didn't even hit your eye," He rolled his very own eyes at her stupidity. "Now, please, just sod off before you make an even bigger whore of yourself."

And she scrambled away, picking up her tie and shoe before she did.

Malfoy was furious. "What the hell was that about?" He flailed his arms furiously. "I had her in the bag, Zabini. She was right there for my taking."

"Oh yeah? And what is _her_, name, Draco?"

"...Blonde Bimbo I nearly fucked?" He shrugged.

Blaise blinked at him before walking off in the direction of the Changing Rooms.

Malfoy fell into step next to him, his hands shoved into his pockets. "She has a hot sister, I could've hooked you up. But, you cocked that up, didn't you?"

"Malfoy, I don't care who you fuck, or where you fuck them-"

"-I bet you care about _how_." Malfoy smirked.

Blaise pretended he didn't hear that. "-just don't do it infront of me, alright? I'm not a fan of having my eyes bleed."

"What? You jealous of my skills?"

Blaise stopped, and turned to his companion, a smile on his lips. "You did not just go there."

The Malfoy gave him a lopsided grin. "Oh, but I did. You, Blaise Zabini, are jealous of the fact that I have inhumane seduction skills and you haven't been able to nail a girl in three months."

Blaise chuckled. "Merlin, Malfoy. You really are a piece of work, aren't you?"

"A piece of fit, sex on legs, you mean." They continued walking.

"That's not what I mean at all." He shuddered at the thought.

"Alright, alright. If you think I'm not good enough, if you think I'm not the Slytherin Sex God, then-"

"-Ah, no. You're the Sex God alright, - I'm not deaf, you know,- but you will, in no way, get a girl to really fall in love with you." Blaise opened the doors to their destination.

Draco was too proud to admit to anything. "Is that a challenge?" He peeled off his shirt, before buttoning on a clean one.

"Not yet, it's not." Blaise followed suit, knowing better than to challenge a Malfoy.

Besides, he needed to gather more research before delving into a challenge.

He wasn't a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake.

* * *

"What the fuck."

Blaise had been unintentionally, accidently, collecting challenge research throughout the day.

After breakfast, Malfoy was at it with another ditzy in an abandoned classroom he just happened to walk past. And damn, were they at it. Like two starving, savage bears, for Merlin's sake. And then it was during potions that Blaise stumbled across Malfoy shagging a brunette - and brunettes' were meant to be smart, - in the Potions closet. What the hell, man?

And then ofcourse, it was before lights out when he walked into his room, only to find a moving heap on _his bed_. The moans and growls gave away their activity under the sheets. Under _his sheets._

Blaise was furious. It was his _bed_. It's where he _slept._ He growled before muttering wandless spells under his breath. The duvet covering them was yanked back by thin air, and the naked girl under Malfoy leaped up, gathered her belongings and sprinted out of the room. Blaise threw Malfoy's trousers at his face before turning around and waiting, his hands fisted at his sides.

He stared at the door. "What the hell is wrong with you, Malfoy?"

There were sounds of materials being pulled and a zipper being zipped up. "What is wrong with _me_? What is wrong with _you_? This is the second time you've interrupted me getting some."

Blaise turned back around, his fingers rubbing his temples. "I'm not even going to ask why you found it necessary to _get some_ in my bed."

"Well-" Malfoy smirked.

"-I didn't ask. But, seriously, Malfoy? You've had sex almost four times today." Blaise sighed before walking over to his bed and levitating the sheets up and out of the window.

"_Almost_ being the key word there." Malfoy walked over to his bed, clad in his green silk pants.

"Twice. You've had sex twice, and were about to have it two more times if it weren't for me. You're welcome, Malfoy's dick." By now, Blaise was replacing his pillows and blankets with Theo's - who's bed was next to his.

"Did you just talk to my dick?" Malfoy almost chuckled as he laid in his bed. His own bed.

"Maybe." The Italian smiled to himself at their childishness. He lay in his bed, staring at the charmed - starry, - ceiling. "So Malfoy."

"Hmm, dick whisperer?"

Blaise bit the inside of his cheek. "All these girls you've fucked; have any of them actually fallen for you?"

"They do the falling before the sex." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"So basically - you've never gotten a girl to fall in love with you?"

"How is _that_ the basically?"

"It's true."

"No, Zabini. They all fall in love with me."

"Slytherin Sex God you, or Draconis Malfoy you?"

"What's the difference?" He paused. "No wait, don't answer that. What are you, a bloody Hufflepuff? What's with the deep twenty questions?"

"I'm just curious. I'm pretty sure you will never be able to make any girl fall in love with you."

"But-"

"-For her to actually say the words, "I love you, Draco." Ha, as if that would happen."

"It could happen." He paused and sat up, his elbows supporting him. "It will happen."

"Any girl?" Blaise cracked an eye open, loving the way Malfoy just walked into his trap.

"Any." He scoffed.

"You wanna' bet?"

"Try me."

Blaise sat up, resting his arms on his knees smugly. "I'll tell you what; we'll make a bet. If, by the end of this school year, you can get any girl I choose to fall in love with you, - as in really fall in love with you - then I'll..."

"You'll what?"

"Depends on what you want. Galleons?"

"Too easy. I'll claim my reward soon enough."

Blaise hesitated. That sounded extremely dodgy, especially since it came from a Malfoy. He wasn't a Malfoy through and through just because of the hair. "Fine, it's not like you'll need to."

Draco smirked. "Don't be too sure about that. I never lose."

Blaise shrugged, a smile playing on his lips.

Draco flopped back down on his bed. "So, who's the bird?"

"That, my dear friend, is for me to decide and for you to find out."

And then he turned off the remaining lights, plunging them into darkness.

"Screw you." Malfoy muttered.

Blaise turned in his bed. He smirked. "You'd screw anything with a hole."

* * *

He'd got it.

He had found the girl, the girl he needed to win the bet without breaking a sweat. And she was right there, sitting on her usual seat, nibbling on the end of her quill as she probably finished some homework not even set yet.

So, obviously, when Malfoy walked into the Great Hall, Blaise was grinning like a little wizard boy in a Quiditch store.

Malfoy raised a questioning eyebrow when he sat beside him. "Are you high?"

Blaise sneaked a glance at the girl who would make his year. "You really want to know?"

Draco started filling his plate. "No."

"What if I told you that I found your new conquest?"

That had him looking up at the Italian. "Now I'm listening."

"Guess."

Draco looked up at the girls passing by, and the girls sitting down, all dressed in the robes of their houses. He clicked his tongue. "Blonde, hunched shoulders, Ravenclaw table." He suggested.

Blaise laughed after watching the girl suck the butter off her finger. "You should be so lucky."

"Red head, huge glasses, Slytherin?"

"Who?" Zabini followed the direction of his friend's eyes. There was a girl, laughing with her friends. "What? No. She's cute."

"Ah, crap. You've got a twisted, fat, butters girl in mind, don't you?"

"Actually, no. I'm not that harsh. I just have the most impossible, unapproachable, girl for this bet."

Draco gave him a suspicious glance. "Don't say it."

Blaise smirked evily.

"Zabini, I swear to Merlin, if you say it, I will literally rip-"

"-Hermione. Jean. Granger." Blaise enunciated, punctuating every word with a poke to Draco's chest. "That's right, Draco Malfoy. I bet you won't be able to get Goody-two-shoes Granger to fall in love with you by the end of this school year. Take that in your pumpkin juice and suck it."

Yeah, he had this bet in the bag.


	2. Seduction Fail

Author's Note: Not all that to say, to be honest. Quite tired with all doing nothing all day, you know? Love the reviews you awesome people have left. You make me smiilleee. Uh, this chapter get's rubbish near the end, but bare with me, I'm making this up as I go along. Btw, the Dramione couple-ness will be gradual. I mean, they can't just jump eachother after two chapters, can they?

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 1, 691.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (2) Seduction Fail.

Thank you in advance to everyone who takes their time to leave a (more than one-worded) review. I appreciate it, a lot.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

"No way in hell, Zabini. No fucking way in hell."

Blaise sipped his water.

"This isn't what I agreed to, you Italian loon. I can't even stand talking to the Mudblood!"

The Italian loon buttered his bread. Damn, could he use some jam right about now. It'd go oh-so-well with his breakfast.

"Listen Zabini, I am not going through with this rigged bet."

Blaise froze. He just realised; he had forgotten to Owl his mother last week. Crap. This meant a Howler was on the way. A loud one, probably.

"Should I just claim my winnings now?"

Malfoy growled. "You know what? Screw it."

"You haven't screwed it already?" He asked innocently.

"Just watch and learn, Zabini. This is how you win a bet." He challenged as he made his way up and towards the Gryffindor table.

Blaise had to admit. The guy had balls.

Too bad that after this bet, he would have had them paralyzed by Granger's knee.

Mwahaha.

* * *

"Gosh, 'Mione. Do you do anything but homework all day long?"

Hermione's head snapped up to effectively glare at the Weasley. She stuck her chin out haughtily, before speaking in a defensive tone. "I dont hear you complaining when I'm practically doing your homework for you, Ronald."

Ron wavered, cast his eyes down and continued eating without another word.

Harry spoke up next, breaking the awkward silence which hung in the air. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

He was standing behind Hermione, his hands in his pockets, his shirt untucked, the first two buttons unbuttoned, and his tie loose and thin. Ron looked up at the handsome blonde. "Leave us alone, Ferret, before I make you regret walking over here."

Hermione turned around in time to watch him chuckle mockingly and retort effortlessly. "And how will you do that, Weasley Wanker? Be so stupid that I resort to killing myself? Well, you're halfway there, I can tell you that."

The Great Hall burst into laughter. Ron reddened and stood up.

Draco looked at Hermione, and tried very - very, - hard not to glare or narrow his eyes at her. She was a Mudblood, afterall. She didn't deserve his eye contact. "Granger." He drawled, biting his tongue to keep himself from calling her Mudblood.

Hermione glared at Draco. "Go shag Pansy or something, Ferret Boy." She collected her books and quills and stood up. "Better yet, find a way to stop using up our air. I have a few suggestions, if you need any."

And she made her way past him and down the hall, past the gaping students.

See, _this_ is why he hated her. She actually thought she was better than him, the bitch.

But after glancing at Blaise's smug-arse smile, he called after her, despite his pride. "If I didn't know any better, Granger; after than Parkinson comment, I'd say you're jealous."

That made her freeze. Heck, it made the whole Great Hall freeze, if they weren't watching already. She turned around, a scowl on her face. "Oh, but Malfoy - you do know better, don't you? Because if you don't, you're stupider than I'd thought."

With that, she stomped out.

Draco muttered under his breath, "_Son of a bitch_."

Blaise was waiting for him, his mouth turned up in a smile, his eyes sparkling with the sight of near victory. "Tell me, Draco, how does it feel losing a bet so bloody quickly?"

Draco sat down on the bench, his hands balled up into fists. "That Mudblood bitch. Why does it have to be the Mudblood bitch, Zabini?"

"You said any girl of my choice, Malfoy. And my choice is Granger." Blaise grinned. "Unless, of course, you want to back out now?"

"Not a chance, Blaise. Not a damn chance."

He chugged down a glass of pumpkin juice and stormed out, his robes billowing in his wake.

* * *

Hermione sat in her favourite seat in her favourite place in Hogwarts - the library.

On the rectangular table were dozens of hardbacks, from DADA textbooks to History of Magic books. She liked surrounding herself with books, liked immersing herself in her work; it was much better than the real world, with her unappreciative friends and social life - or lack therof. Come to think about it, it wasn't as if she cared about social lives. She was fine being an unapproachable bookworm Gryffindor. Well, unapproachable unless you're a stupid little Harry Potter lover who would _just die_ if she hooked you up with a date with the Boy-who-lived.

Her day would have continued on being perfectly fine if _he_ hadn't come in and sat across her.

Draco Malfoy. The slimy, pure blooded, cocky git. He just lived to make her life a living hell, didn't he?

"Ugh, are you not done torturing me with your company yet, Ferret?" She said, not looking up from her book.

"Actually, Mud-Granger." He hated not being able to call her a Mudblood. She looked up at him at this change of words, her eyebrows raised. He carried on smoothly."I just wanted to spend some time in the Library, reading and all that, you know."

She wasn't even close to_ that_ stupid. "Right. And I want to go fly around the Quidditch pitch for a bit, you know, almost dying and all that."

He had to admit; she was one of the very few girls - alright, maybe the ONLY girl - who could keep up an intelligent conversation with him. Maybe sometimes even out-wit him. Maybe. Sometimes. He smirked his best seductive smirk, though it was slightly pinched at the corners. "If you want, I could give you some private lessons."

She scoffed. "In what? Being a prat?" And then, as if she just realised what he had meant, she narrowed her eyes. "Wait, did-did you just...are you flirting with me, Ferret?"

He gave her his classic smoldering look, "I don't know; do you want me to?"

She stuttered for a response.

"Because if you do;" He leaned over, and plucked the quill from her hand. "I haven't even started yet."

Merlin, did everything seem to be going his way, or what? Malfoy, now that he thought about it, was almost certain that he'd hear those three words from the Mudblood in no time...

She started laughing. At his flirting. Well, that never happened. "God, Malfoy, whoever said you don't have a sense of humour could not have been more wrong." She started closing her books. "Now that, right there, was hilarious. The way you actually thought that Malfoy smirk and that eye-thing you did would have an affect on me." She laughed again, stacking her books up. "And-and, the way you came over here, thinking that I'd actually enjoy your company instead of want to rip my own head off in it, really makes my day."

She looked him dead in the eye. "Let's get something straight, Ferret. I hate you, and you hate me. That's the way the World works. Let's learn to accept it, shall we?"

And she was about to walk off, when he got up and retorted, having enough of her nonsense. "Woah, Mudblood, you really think you can out-insult me, don't you?"

Hermione smiled, without an ounce of humour. "There we go. The M word. That's what I like to hear."

Draco was getting pissed. "Of course it is, Mudblood. It's what you are. A filthy, dirty, little mongruel."

"Then why are you spending your time talking to me, instead of doing what Pureblooded arses like you do."

"You're right. I'm wasting my valuable, precious time talking to someone so much below me."

Why did he have to be such a JERK? "Leave me alone, then."

"Why? So you can do dirty little things to your dirty little self?" He was now in front of her, staring her down.

"You're a sicko." She stepped forward.

"Just to you, baby." He glared as he invaded her personal space.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Oooh, bad words for little miss Prissy Pants."

"I hate you." They were extremely close now, close enough to feel eachother's heat.

"The feeling's mutual, Mudblood."

"Is that the only insult you know?"

"Your face is an insult."

"Ooh, BURN."

This bet was definately going to screw him over.

* * *

"So you talked to her?"

Draco, Theo and Blaise were lounging in the Slytherin Common Room, ditching Muggle Studies. Malfoy's feet rested on the coffee table as he played with a miniature snitch in his hand. "I did."

Blaise looked way too smug, so Draco threw his snitch at him. It hit him in that stupid forehead of his.

Theo grinned, and flipped through the pages of some random book. "What happened? Did your Malfoy charm unclasp her bra, or something?"

"Or something." He rolled his eyes. "The bitch started arguing."

"So you snogged her to stop her talking?"

"No, you fucktard." Draco snapped. "We were seriously arguing. _Salazar_, I hate that Mudblood."

Theo sat up, his chin in his hand. "Tell me what you've tried. You know, to win her over."

"Hey! He gets no help in this!" Blaise cut in.

They ignored him. Draco thought for a bit. "I gave her my best Malfoy smirk and sex eyes. I even flirted. What more could she want?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Look; here's what you do."

"SCREW YOU THEO." Blaise complained.

Theo continued. "You get to know her. Find out her likes, do the things she enjoys doing-"

"-I don't see that happening."

"Atleast start with a truce. Get her to stop hating you."

"You mean...become friends?" He said with disgust.

"Precisely, Sex God."

"But...I hate her so bloody much."

"Well maybe you should work on that." Theo said, knowing that his best friend didn't hate her as much as he thought he did.

"Don't see that happening either." He stood up and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.

Blaise looked at Theo. "How long do you think it's going to take him?"

"Not sure." Theo replied, before sitting back in his seat. "How long do you think it's going to take her to make _him_ fall in love?"

"Two months, max."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."


	3. Reasons Why

Author's Note: Expect quick updates with the Summer Holiday and everything. But not too quick. Where's the fun in that? This story's gonna' mainly - though not completely, - from the Slytherins' point of view, since they're so much more interesting to write about. Slytherin's FTW. ;D

JUSTHADABLACKOUT. (ANDI'MINENGLAND) FOR1HOUR. Sat on my brother's car, counted the stars. Nbd. 8) #BadassMofos.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 1,620.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out? Urm, there are also ALOT OF ELIPSES in this chapter. Like, everywhere. You've been warned.

Chapter: (3) Reasons Why.

I love every single one of you who reviews. Just sayin'.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

It was way past midnight, and all was silent in the Hogwarts dorms. All except one certain Slytherin room. I bet you can guess which one was anything but asleep. Mhmm, you've got it.

The three mates sat on their individual beds, passing a bottle of Butterbeer between them. They'd somehow gotten the thing into school last week, and wanted to finish it before Hogsmeade the next day.

But tonight, Draco was just not feeling it. Just not interested in all the Gryffindor bashing, and Quidditch talk, and girls-who-I've-recently-banged ratings. His headache was killing him, and he'd just gotten a letter from his mother, which made him the just the _happiest camper_ alive, of course.

"I'm off to take a walk." Draco announced, after taking a long swig of the Butterbeer. He threw the bottle skillfully in the direction of Zabini, who caught it without a second glance.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "What? It's," He glanced at his watch. "-It's five to three. You're gonna' get into deep shit if one of the prefects see you out there."

He stuffed some pillows under his blanket to be disguised as him before walking towards the door. "Your point being?"

Theo smirked. "Let him go, Blaise. He's probably got some bird locked away in a closet somewhere."

Draco smirked back. "Yeah. Your mum." Blaise cracked up, choking on his beverage.

Theo glared, hard. "Your nan." He said it as if it was the most insulting, threatening diss ever to have existed.

"She's out of your league." Draco scoffed, slipping on a shirt, now clad in his dark silk pajama bottoms and loose white t-shirt. He tossed a smirk at Nott before turning the knob and walking out, closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

Hermione had been sitting up in her bed for the last hour and a half.

However hard she tried, she just couldn't go to sleep. Her blankets were warm, and her room was dark - the perfect atmosphere for a good night's sleep. If you were anyone but Hermione Granger, of course.

The Gryffindor had tried reading, counting back from one hundred, squeezing her eyes shut and praying for sleep to take over; everything in the book. So, giving up, she just did what she did best in these circumstances.

She took a walk.

After pulling on her robes and slippers, she sneakily - careful not to wake anyone else, - walked through the corridoors, up the stairs, into the Astronomy Tower. She walked past the huge planeterium statues to the balcony, where she could enjoy the cool night air.

But he was there, again. For Merlin's sake, she couldn't even catch a break at one of her favourite spots in Hogwarts.

His head turned as he heard her footsteps. "Stalking me, Mudblood?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." She waved him off, too tired to argue. Walking up to the railing, she clutched it, breathing in the cool, fresh air.

He sighed and did the same, looking out into the Hogwarts grounds. He didn't look at her when he said, "Out past midnight, not bad for Little Miss Priss."

Hermione rolled her eyes and closed her eyes for a few long seconds. "You don't know me, Ferret."

Draco smirked into the night. "I think I have a pretty good idea. You're Gryffindor Bookworm Granger, who's blood is mudder than mud and brain full of more nonsense than a textbook."

Draco realised how rude what he had said was after he'd uttered it. He wouldn't care, usually. But with this bet, he _had_ to care.

She narrowed her eyes at him and spoke with all kinds of sarcasm. "Oooh, my turn." Her lips turned up in a Slytherin-worthy smirk. He was impressed, to say the least. "Let's see, pureblooded arse with lack of intelligence; thinks he's better than everyone else because daddy's got a big old checkbook; and belittles everyone by insulting their heritage and ridiculing their flaws. How was that?"

Malfoy was shocked. No one had ever spoken to him like that. No one had ever dared say such things to his face, especially with a smirk worthy of himself. He was speechless.

Hermione was still smiling, her head tilted mockingly, her arms crossed over her chest.

Draco pressed the tip of his tongue to the back of his upper molars, trying to think of something to say back, something to stump her. But his mouth betrayed him, the traitorous bastard; as it said aloud what he was thinking. "No one's ever spoken to me like that."

Granger raised her eyebrows. "Well, maybe someone had to."

He looked out onto the grounds once again. "..._Maybe_." Her words spun in his head, clouding his other thoughts. "And he's not my dad. Don't ever call him that."

Hermione tried to act like she didn't care. Tried to scoff and walk away, without a second glance. But she just...couldn't. She had this annoying, uncontrollable caring nature. "What do you mean?"

Draco was the one to scoff. "As if you care."

She fingered the railing nervously. "Well...of course I...don't." She lied.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you always such a shitty liar?"

"Am not." She replied without missing a beat, and not thinking twice.

"Well, _now_ I'm convinced." He told her, smirking, before turning around and sliding down the railing to settle on the cold, hard floor. He brought one of his knees up, while the other rested straight on the ground. His elbow was propped against his high knee, his fingers running through his hair.

Then he realised. This was the FIRST EVER civilised conversation they'd had, without ripping eachother's heads off.

It was strange. And terribly non-awkward. Fuck, why?

If Hermione didn't know any better, she'd say that he looked slightly, very - very - slightly...vulnerable. But she did know better. She always knew better.

She started walking off, but reaching the statue, she sighed and turned back. "Malfoy...why are you here?"

"Excuse me?"

She fingered the hem of her sweater. "I mean...here, Hogwarts? You could go off and become a Death Eater just like..._him_, anytime you want. There's no reason for you to stay and learn this stuff like the rest of us."

He intended on ridiculing her for being so damn nosy and deep, but all that came out was, "I'd turn out just like him." It was barely above a whisper, his answer.

She almost hadn't heard it, so intinctively walked back to him and sat leaning against the railing beside him. As far as she could.

"I'm listening." She whispered back.

He was confused. Why was she acting like she cared so much? "Mud-..Granger...Why are _you_ here? Right now?"

"I," She thought about it, "..don't know." Hermione stared at her hands.

"Fair enough." He shrugged before tipping his head back and sighing. "If I become a Death Eater, I'd turn out just like him. He should have no control over me, now that the bastard's in Azkaban, but fuck, he does. He's drilled so much shit into my head, and even now, I can't think anything but what I've been taught. I wish I could kill him myself, with these hands, for screwing me up so bad." Hermione noticed his hands fisting. "I want to turn out different, someone I can be proud of, you know?" He wasn't really talking to her, more to himself. She nodded, nonetheless. "I want to, be anything but him."

Hermione was the one who was shocked this time. She could feel her eyes widening and her eyebrows reaching her hairline. She didn't what to say, how to say it.

Draco realised what he'd said. He never said things like that. It was almost as if those walls he'd spent time building had opened up ever so slightly. He clenched his jaw and the walls slammed back together, unbreakable. He couldn't believe he said all of that, to the Mudblood of all people. He suddenly jumped up, shoved his hands into his pockets, coldly said, "Forget I ever said that. I mean it, repeat any of those lies and I'll personally kill you." and started walking away.

The Gryffindor's mouth was dry. She leaped up and called after him, "Wait, Malfoy!" He turned his head after great reluctance. She gulped. "...I don't think you're _that_ screwed up." She admitted, smiling a little, her eyes gentle.

His lips turned up. In a smile. A small one, but one nevertheless. He hated himself for it, for such vulnerability. So he smoothly turned the smile into a scowl and did what he did best - started a fight. "As if I care about what a filthy Mudblood like you thinks."

This time, when he walked away, he made it all the way to his dormitory before stopping and glancing back, even if it was for a milisecond.

* * *

Theo cracked an eye open when Draco not-so-quietly returned. He sat up in the darkness. "Enjoy your walk?"

Draco hated him for being such a light sleeper. He replied flatly as he lied atop his blanket, staring at the sky. "No."

"You sound like you've just had the time of your life." Theo settled back into bed before closing his eyes. "So I was right about the bird?"

"Yeah."

"How was she?"

He thought about the Mudblood's interest and nosiness - in other words, her care. "She was talkative."

"You hate talkative."

"Which is why I didn't stay for seconds."

"Ah. Night then, Sex God." Theo yawned.

"Uh-huh."

As sleep slowly claimed him, his mind screamed those words that would forever haunt him. That terrible lie he wished she hadn't said so convincingly. _I don't think you're that screwed up. _

Fucking stupid Mudblood.

She didn't know a thing.

* * *

Reeeeview. Loving your feedback(:

P.S. I'm seriously sorry for the short update. Just have to think some things through for the next chapters. Might need to think up a plot. Crazy, I know.


	4. Time to Talk

Author's Note: Can't think of a witty, funny way to start off the Author's note, so I'll just say Hi. Hi. Absolutely love all your enthusiasm and interest in this story, it makes me type ten times faster.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 2,551. (Whoo. You guys are lucky today.)

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (4) Time to Talk.

Questions:  
**What year are they in? - SerpentofDarkness.**  
Hmm, about that. Even I'm confused in that area. I really cannot be asked to make them Head Boy and Head Girl because well, that's just overused. And even I've used that plot. That's WHY it's overused. Erm, I want them in their last year, but just not Heads. Nah, let's make them both Head Prefects, but not Head-Heads. If you get me? So, let's say Seventh Year, Head Prefects, the actual Heads aren't yet chosen, so it may be them. Depends what I'm thinking. :)

**Will Blaise get a girlfriend? - Tempest.  
**Of course he will; look at him. Who his girlfriend will be; I'm not sure about. I'm really into the whole Blaise/Ginny thing, but also kinda' like Harry/Ginny because it's so much like James/Lily which I just ABSOLUTELYLOVE. You know what? I''m going to let you, my amazing readers, decide. That's right, just leave a review, or PM me, whichever you want, telling me who you want Blaise to end up with. I'm still kinda' siding on Blinny (that is such a gay couple name) at the moment. So, watcha' think?

**Is Draco going to have a little competition for Hermione's heart? - oxfords.**  
Yes, yes he will. *Staples mouth shut.*

Also, let's say in this; Blaise, Theodore and Draco are all extremely hot and sexy guys. Cause, you know, people have different views and shit.

**Note:** If I get any reviews about me writing about something not "true to the HP world" I will personally come and give you a whole big bowl of your least favourite food. Brussel sprouts, prunes, whatever. I have to admit, I don't know EVERYTHING about the HP world, I barely know an acceptable minimum. So, yeah. Don't judge. 8)

Reviews just make my day. *Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.*

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

Hogsmeade was the same old, same old. It was when the girls gathered in gaggles and giggled whenever a boy - cute or not, - walked past, and when the guys spent time looking cool leaning against walls, and crowding the Quidditch store and Three Broomsticks.

The students dispersed as they reached the town, laughing excitedly as they walked into stores. The Slytherin Trio walked down the streets, hands in pockets, uniforms sexily scruffy, hair perfectly messy - in Draco's case.

Blaise cleared his throat as a flock of girls walked past, laughing and chattering away as they eyed the Slytherin's up and down. He turned slowly as the girls walked past, calling out to them. "Damn, Hufflepuffs, looking good." That had them giggling even louder than before.

When the Italian turned back, Draco was shaking his head at him dissaprovingly.

"What?" He asked past, laughing and chattering away as they eyed the Slytherin's up and down. He turned slowly as the girls walked past, calling out to them. "Damn, Hufflepuffs, looking good." That had them giggling even louder than before.

When the Italian turned back, Draco was shaking his head.

Draco sighed. "Hufflepuffs, Zabini? Really? How low can you stoop?"

Theo started laughing. "Everyone's not as picky as you, Malfoy. Some of us don't mind a Hufflepuff once in a while."

"It's not pickiness, it's how the world works. Let's learn to accept-" He stopped mid-insult, remembering something that should have been out of his head the minute it had gotten in. _Let's get something straight, Ferret. I hate you, and you hate me. That's the way the World works. Let's learn to accept it, shall we? _Fucking bitch, why was her retarded words in his head? Merlin, someone kill him now.

Theo clicked his fingers infront of the pale blonde's face. "Malfoy? Earth to hater of all things not Slytherin?"

Draco snapped back into reality, coming to be faced with someone's fingers clicking inches away from his nose. He swatted the hand away, scowling. "Yeah, right, sorry."

Blaise grinned. "Granger on your mind?"

Malfoy defended himself quickly, too quickly. "What? No. I'd rather fuck a Hufflepuff than have the Mudblood in my head."

"Touchy." Theo noted. That's when the other trio, the Golden Trio as their fanatics call it, walked towards them, probably on their way to the Three Broomstics with the glazed eyes of the two losers. "Speaking of the Mudblood in your head."

Hermione was following the two, a metre or so behind, her arms crossed as her face as fixed into a scowl. She was wearing the slightly hot muggle contraption called Jeans. It would have been so much hotter if they were tighter, but the bookworm was such a prude that they hung loosely, not clinging to her legs at all. She wore a grey sweater with embroidery stitched across her shoulders, and a long, wool scarf draped over herself. She really had no sense of style, and didn't even care.

Weasley Wanker, and The-Boy-who-lived-to-be-a-pain-in-the-arse all but ran into the Three Broomsticks. Granger wasn't all that bothered, so she made her way slowly, completely ignoring the glaring Malfoy.

Blaise shoved Draco forward. "Prime chance for seduction, Draco. Show us why they call you Sex God."

Malfoy gave him a stone cold look, "Well, we all know why they don't call _you_ Sex God."

Theo and Blaise just smirked as he approached the Gryffindor. He'd blocked her path, drawling, "Granger."

She looked up at him, and damn, if looks could kill - he'd be dead. So dead. She didn't say a word, she didn't need to.

He swallowed. After last night, she'd probably never talk to him again. There goes the bet. "Look, I saw you staring at me, and I just wanted to say - yeah, _I know_." He leaned against the tree. "God's gift to women, at your service."

These were some of his best lines. They'd cause a girl to swoon within seconds.

Hermione just set her jaw and looked him up and down. "And all this time, I was sure that you were God's accident. But then again, you could also be God's biggest mistake...?"

Zabini and Nott, who were listening very closely, burst into _oohs_ and _damns._

Draco ignored them, and stared her down. She stood her ground and glared at him, it was the first move she'd made all encounter. "But really," She fisted her hands. "_who cares what a mudblood like me, thinks? _Right, daddy's boy?" And then she shoved past him, kneeing him in the gut as she left.

He wouldn't fall to the ground. No, he was way too proud. But, Merlin, did it hurt. He clutched his stomach as his other hand gripped the bark of the tree, trying not to break skin with it. Theo and Blaise strolled up to him, taking their time.

"And that's how it's done, Zabini." Theo told his mate.

Blaise chuckled and raised his eyebrows at the Malfoy. "You think we should take notes?"

"Why not? Let's see, - hit on girl, get kneed by girl, and fall to your knees because of girl. Seems easy enough."

"Please," Draco rasped, his eyes squeezed shut. "Go screw eachother."

Out of_ all_ the girls in Hogwarts, why her, for Merlin's sake?

* * *

"Listen; Draco." Theo started, chewing on a thin piece of straw. He scooted his seat closer to the blond Malfoy lounging in one of the chairs in the Three Broomsticks, amongst all the Slytherins. "Blaise would kill me if he saw me helping you in this...impossible bet, but I have a little wager on this myself, so I really need to speed things up a bit." He glanced around the buzzing bar filled with hormone-crazed teenagers. "I noticed Granger walking out, looking pretty upset. I think that redhead Blaise has been perving on - Ginny, was it? - followed her out. Try the alley."

Pansy's arms were wrapped around his neck, clinging to him like a bitch. Literally. However much he tried to shove her off, she kept coming back for more pain. Draco sighed and looked at her. "For fuck's sake, Parkinson. Get the bloody hell off of me."

"But DRAAAAKIIEEE." She whined in that horribly annoying voice of hers.

"Bitch, do you know how annoying your voice is? It makes me want to break this glass of Butterbeer," He pointed to the jug on the table by him. "And cut myself with the shards."

She stopped, widened her eyes, waited a few seconds, and burst into laughter. Draco pushed her off after being throughly pissed off, and then turned to Theo. "Why would I want to follow her out? I still have a little pride left."

"You also still have that bet to win." He shrugged. "So I don't know what you did to vex her so damn much, but you better try and fix it. And if I'm not mistaken, you were the one who said you don't back down from challenges. Granger's the only girl that'll give you a challenge. We both know it."

Draco turned away, not letting himself think about it, before joining in on the conversation.

Theo really needed to win that bet he'd made with Zabini last night, before Draco had came back. He'd basically bet that Draco would be the one to say those three painful words before Christmas holidays while Blaise had insisted that it'd take him a bit longer than four months. Theo had scoffed and said that she'd have him interested in no time, to which the Italian did not disagree.

Damn it, he had fifty Galleons on the line.

And his pride.

Pride to a Slytherin was like good results to a Ravenclaw.

_Every_thing.

* * *

"Hermione, please." Ginny tried consoling the brown-haired Gryffindor. "I'm really sorry. Ron has this foot-in-mouth disease; he doesn't mean half of the things he says, and he really, really likes you-"

"-Does it look like I care about that?" She whispered, doing her best to keep her tears from falling. "Yes, he had the audacity to blame me for him failing his DADA test. I've helped him as much as I can, is it my fault that he's mentally retarded? Besides, he has nothing to do with this."

Ginny laughed at that. "There we go. Let's see a smile, come on, let's see a smile...?"

Hermione scowled.

"Ouch. So not exactly a smile, but better than nothing, I guess. Come on, 'Mione. You've been upset all morning. Just tell me what happened?" Ginny sighed when her friend didn't respond, but suddenly perked up when something tall and blond came their way. "Er, is it just me, or is Draco-freaking-Malfoy coming towards us?"

Hermione groaned. "Ugh, way to kick me while I'm down, Gin."

"Oh, I'm dead serious." Her voice sounded mischevious, contradicting her words. "And yes, he's coming right towards us. Do you want me to...leave?"

"Yes." She looked her straight in the eye. "And I want you to take me with you."

"I don't think so." The redhead grinned, and started walking away, brushing past Malfoy as she did.

Hermione slid down the wall she had been leaning against, and buried her face in her hands. She did not want to show weakness in front of the Slytherin. But the stupid tears would fall any minute now. Especially with him here.

Draco wasn't walking towards her, this was just the shortcut to the store he wanted to visit, of course. He sneered at her as he stopped. "Life treating you well, Mudblood?"

She stood, after wiping her eyes discreetly. Hermione didn't respond; she just couldn't take it anymore. "Go play with yourself, Ferret." And with that, she made a move to leave.

The Slytherin sighed, exasperated with himself. He turned swiftly and grabbed the Gryffindor's wrist before it was out of reach, stopping her in her tracks. "Wait, Mud-Granger."

She turned to face him sharply. Her eyes were shiny, he noticed. Watery-shiny. "What?" She yanked her arm from his grasp.

He was shocked by her teary eyes. "Granger, are you-are you crying?"

She set her jaw and looked away. "Of course not."

Draco moved infront of her, so she was facing him. "I...made you cry?" He was still in shock. What did he SAY? He'd never seen her cry before. Not because of him, not because of anyone.

Hermione glared at him. "Not everything revolves around you, Ferret. Leave me alone."

Draco didn't understand. He put a hand on her shoulder after great reluctance - if it wasn't for this bet, he'd never touch a Mudblood - and turned her to face him again. She jerked away from his touch and backed away to lean against the wall. "Don't touch me."

"Granger, shut up." He sighed. "Why are you crying? You never cry."

She looked at him, confused. "I told you I'm not bloody crying."

"Is it because I called you Mudblood? I always call you Mudblood. Granger, I didn't mean-I didn't know-I-"

"-Shut up, shut up, shut up." She snapped. "I told you to leave, so just drop it. It has nothing to do with you." She tried to leave once again but Draco was having none of that as he growled in anger. He'd had just enough of her attitude, so wasted no time in grabbing her arm and pushing her against the wall not-so-gently. He pressed against her, not quite touching, not wanting to.

He was taller than her, but not too much taller. He growled angrily, feeling her hard breaths against his face. "I'm making it to do with me."

She was silent, she stayed silent as he placed two hands on either side of her head, bracing the wall behind her. He spoke again, huskier this time. "I am sick of your attitude, Mudblood, so do us both a favour and tell me why the fuck you're acting like such a girl."

She clenched her jaw. "I will if you get the fuck away from me."

He pushed himself off the wall and walked back to lean against the opposite one.

She crossed her arms and sniffed. "Ron blamed me for failing his Defense test."

Draco stared at her, before blinking once, hard. "What? You have to be bloody kidding me. That's what you're crying about?"

She looked down. "Why should I tell you?"

"I thought you just did." He smirked.

She huffed, and rubbed her arms. "...I'm just a Mudblood, aren't I? Why do _you_ care whether I'm upset or not?"

_I don't. _"So that _is_...what this is about?" He was really bad with angry, crying girls. Heck, he was really bad with any girl which wasn't completely head over heels for him.

"Gloating?" She didn't stay any longer, she just pushed herself off of the wall and hugged herself in the chilly air, before starting down the alley.

_Atleast start with a truce. Get her to stop hating you. _Draco sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, and without thinking into it, he yelled. "You were different!"

She halted, and turned with an exasperated expression. "What are you on about now, Malfoy?"

He ran a hand through his hair, keeping himself from yanking locks off. What he was about to say, he'd never even thought about. Much. He slowly walked towards her, his hands deep in his pockets. "When I first met you. You were different, somehow. You seemed...different." He couldn't find any other word to describe her.

She just looked at him.

Draco sighed; he really didn't want to continue. So he started walking, down the other side of the alley, towards the empty part of Hogsmeade. She followed slowly, unsurely.

"All of my life, I've been taught to hate your kind. Hate anyone who wasn't _my_ kind, really. Purebloods were all that were good in the world, and Mudblood's deserved to die." He sneaked a glance at her; she hadn't started crying. Phew. "When I met you for the first time, I thought you were interesting, different. You weren't snobby and spoilt like the girls I'd known, and I...didn't hate it. Then I found out about your heritage, and instantly hated you."

"Tell me something I don't know." She muttered as they exited the alley. Draco went and sat on a small bench, while Granger took a seat on the bench behind his, facing the other way. The backs of the benches were pressed up against one another, but they sat on opposite sides on different benches, looking out to different views.

"You didn't do anything wrong-"

"-My parent's did?" She offered.

He smirked, glad that she couldn't see. "Yes, but that's not the point. Your blood, it's...-I've realised, -" He took a deep breath. This was the biggest lie he'd uttered. "...not all that different from mine."

Hermione scoffed. "Stop lie-"

"-I'm not lieing." He didn't even know who was speaking anymore. "We're both wizards, and that's all that matters."

"Muggles and elves are-"

"-Don't start, SPEW."

"It's S.P.E.W."

"Because I care." His sarcasm didn't irk her nearly as much as she wanted it to.

She laughed. Really laughed.

Draco had to admit, it wasn't the worst sound in the world. It wasn't even close, actually.

He had to be the best liar ever, to pull that off.

Or he was speaking the truth, but was in denial.

...Yeah, it was probably the first one.

* * *

Maybe this wasn't all that good, so sorry. Here's your nearly-there-truce. How'd you find it? REEEVIEW.

Oh, and might need to get a Beta. Can't be asked to go through the chapter over and over again, and I miss things, so you know. Still thinking about it.


	5. Liking Quidditch

Author's Note: Enjoy the chapter. It's extra long, just for you guys. :)

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 3,338.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out? Possibly a bit OOC with the Quidditch match and all.

Chapter: (5) Liking Quidditch.

Questions:  
**Has the war finished, or is it still going to happen? - SerpentofDarkness.  
**Good question. I'm going to say that the War is over and done with. Voldemort lost, Harry won, you know the drill. So all these students have come back to continue with their education and finish it. Let's also say that Dumbledore is still alive, because, really, I hate that he died. Ooh, and Fred and George are BOTH alive and pulling pranks. Coolio?

**Are these chapters going to get longer? -  
**That all, my curious reader, depends on my mood. Sometimes I feel like writing, sometimes I don't. I guess if there's a specific moment I want the chapter to end at, it won't matter if it's long or short. All in all, I think it'll probably get slightly longer, from now. I like having more than two or three scenes in each update. Hope that answered your question.

**The Blaise's Girlfriend Phenomenon.  
**Okay, so I've gotten some votes, and right now, it's 3 votes to Blaise/Luna, and 2 to Blaise/Ginny. Because there's so few votes, I'm going to let more readers vote in this chapter, so I have a higher number, and I know if I'll be definately dissapointing the minority. SO CONTINUE VOTING.

**Note:** If I get any reviews about me writing about something not "true to the HP world" I will personally come and give you a whole big bowl of your least favourite food. Brussel sprouts, prunes, whatever. I have to admit, I don't know EVERYTHING about the HP world, I barely know an acceptable minimum. So, yeah. Don't judge. 8)

Do you know how happy reviews make me? How about you review, and find out? :3

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

The Slytherin Common Room was buzzing with excitement since dawn. The Hogwarts Quidditch Cup Semi-final was all anyone and everyone could talk about. It was Slytherin versus Ravenclaw, and the Gryffindors had already made their way to the Final. This time, the Slytherins were in it to win it, and no measley boy with a bolt scar on his forehead would stop them from claiming what was theirs.

The Slytherin Seeker, Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin chasers, Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, along with the rest of the team trained out in the pitch. As captain, Draco worked them extra hard, until they were almost collapsing off their brooms by the end of the session. Only they didn't; they were way too Slytherin-y to show pain. As soon as it was time for breakfast, all but the three mates made a bee line for the changing rooms, almost dropping their brooms in the process.

"Damn, Draco." Blaise approached him, his breath coming quick and hard as he held onto his broom for dear life. "Who pissed in your pumpkin juice today?"

Theo followed shortly, pouring water all over his face and then shaking his head, letting the droplets fly everywhere. If any girl would have walked past, at that moment, they would have swooned and fainted on the spot. Theo looked at his two friends. "What the fuck did we do to deserve this?"

Draco, who seemed to be the least affected by the long hours of training, shrugged. "What? I was so much easier on you girls today."

Blaise opened his mouth to retort when Theo patted his back, interrupting him. "All that matters, is that we're ready for the game tonight."

Malfoy pulled out his own water and took a long, deep swig. His parched throat needed that. "Exactly."

* * *

After showering, keeping from strangling the team captain to death, and pulling on a fresh set of new clothes they entered the Great Hall. The Slytherins all patted their backs and gave them words of inspiration and motivation like, "Good luck," and "Oi! Win!"

Theo discreetly slid closer to the Malfoy eating like it was the last meal he'd ever get. Draco stopped and jerked away. "What do you think you're doing, mate?"

Theo grinned, causing Draco to scowl. He pushed the grinning fool back. "I don't _fly that way_, Nott. Try Zabini."

Blaise, who was in the middle of emptying his glass of juice, choked and sputtered before setting the glass down, a scowl plastered on his face.

Theo howled in laughter while Draco smirked and shrugged lightly. Nott turned back to his best mate. "So I saw you heading down the alley-"

"-Stalking?"

"-Of course. And I happened to come across something very," He smirked knowingly and finished with a wink. "-interesting."

Draco eyed him suspiciously. He couldn't have seen, no one was there. Then again, he could've heard; with the alley way being dark enough to let a lurking Slytherin lurk at his prime. The blonde heir to a bucketload of money played it off infront of Blaise, not wanting him to know the status of their little bet. "Like what?"

Theodore knew what his friend was trying to do the minute Blaise perked up at the conversation. So he did what Slytherins did best; he lied smoothly. "Just that Raven_claw_ girl _clawing_ at your pants."

Draco continued with his cool demeanour and swirled the juice in his glass. "Get yourself off at it, did you?"

"Nah." He waved the comment away, but was determined to have him pay for it. "Just thought it was a bit interesting, you know? Very...chatty."

Draco snapped his head in his direction and glared at him. He grit his teeth. "I don't remember any talking being involved."

Nott just smiled innocently. "Oh really? Well, for some reason, I seem to recall talk of heritage...and blood-"

"-Wo-wo-woah. Wait just a second. Did you just say-" Realisation kicked Blaise in the shin. Draco saw it in his eyes, and let his palm slide down his face in defeat. "-He's talking about Granger, isn't he?"

Theo grinned. "Took you long enough." He lowered his voice, as what he was to say was only meant for the three of them. "Guess what our favourite Slytherin loving, Gryffindor bashing, Mudblood despising Malfoy said to little bookworm Granger?"

Draco sighed, and rubbed his temples after resting his elbows on the table. He didn't deserve to go through this. he was

The Italian almost bounced in excitement. Theo continued. "That Mudbloods..." He finished dramatically. "..have the same blood as him."

Blaise gaped. His wide mouth soon turned into a shit-eating grin. "You're bullshitting me."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you? But that's not all; he also said that they were both wizards and that was all that mattered."

This time Blaise was the one howl with laughter. Draco fisted his hands and banged them on the table. "It was a lie to get the stupid witch from sobbing all over the place, alright?"

"Didn't seem like that to me."

The Malfoy growled in frustration. "Listen; I'm going to win this bet, and I'm going to have to lie to do so, so back off."

Blaise's eyes roamed Draco's face for any signs of hidden feelings about the matter at hand. He found exactly what he needed. "You do realise that none of us here, except you - _or, not except you_ - has nothing against Mudbloods. We don't even think they're all that different. It was just what our dumb-arse parents taught us. We're over it. But we never thought you were." Blaise stared right into the other Slytherin's eyes.

He had to think about that. "I...-She..."

"So maybe you weren't lieing, afterall?" Theo offered, looking at him meaningfully.

Draco couldn't allow himself to think about this. Any of this. He had beliefs, ethics which he couldn't just change on a whim. Even if he didn't believe in them anymore. He shook his head, as if it would rid him of any of these thoughts. "Not important." He noticed a bush - not so big and bushy as before - bobbing up and down out of the Hall.

Draco ate the rest of the food on his plate and slurped the remainder of his juice before standing up. "Commence seduce Granger, attempt two." He winked before he walked off.

It was as if a lightbulb lit above Blaise's head just before he yelled at the Malfoy walking away. The rest of the hall didn't hear, with the loudness of the chattering and laughing emitting from the teenagers.

"Get her to come to the match today, Cassanova; and I'll walk around in my underwear through the gardens." It would've been high stakes, low gain, but Blaise was way too sure of himself and the fact that Granger was a bookworm who'd never set foot in a Quidditch arena.

Draco had heard, and then cursed his perfect hearing.

Damn his perfect everything.

* * *

She was in the library, as usual. He almost rolled his eyes when she entered, a large smile on her face.

He approached her, but thought twice of it when she dissapeared into the bookshelves. He swivelled on his heel and went to look at bookshelf she was examining, only he was at the other side of it, out of her sight. He could see her through the gaps, walking and touching the books. He followed her path until she finally decided to pick a book. He seemed to have other ideas. Just as she tried to slide it out, he gripped the book and pulled it towards him, only to have it being pulled back.

"What the-" He could hear her say.

"-Granger, let go." He replied, not even bothering to read the book's title. It's not like he wanted it, in the first place. It was just an important prop in the plan. Whatever that was. He was still making it up as he went along.

"Malfoy? Malfoy!" The grip on the book relaxed but then she yanked it again. "What the hell? Let go of my book!"

"I don't see your name on it." Draco retorted, pulling it back but not using all of his force.

"What are you even doing here, you pompous jerk?" She shot back, pulling it harder.

"This pompous jerk is trying to get the damn book from the bucktoothed bookworm." It was incorrect, the insult. She had perfectly sized teeth now, and he knew it, but it's not as if either of them acknowledged the mistake. But the word _mudblood _seemed to be wrong to use after their little truce-type-thing.

"Oh, just let it go already." She sighed loudly and tugged once again. It was to no use, she was no where near as strong as him, even with him holding back. But then again, she was just as stubborn and proud.

He hauled it back. "Tell me, Granger. Does it hurt?"

"What?" She paused in her yanking, giving Draco the perfect time to take back the book - that is, if he actually wanted it.

"That stick so far up your arse."

"Ugh." She let go of the retched book and stomped her way around the shelves and towards him. "What is your _problem_?"

"What is my problem?" He said instantly, releasing his hold on the hardback.

"That's what I said." She waved her hands around as if to prove a point. She snatched the book from the shelf and shoved it in his face. "Do you even know what book this is?"

"Of course not. It irks you and that's all I care about." He rolled his eyes; as if he actually cared about whether or not the book was History of Hogwarts or Ten Ways to Fuck a Hypogriff.

"Oh, you absolute -" She walked straight up to him, livid.

"- You complete and utter -" He made the space between them much smaller in an instant, with one stride.

"- You little -" She pointed at him.

"- Little? You bloody -" He stared her down, trying to intimidate her.

She wasn't intimidated easily, with the whole beating Voldemort thing she'd gone through. "- Merlin, I wish I could just strangle -"

"- And stab repeatedly on the wound -"

"- Until you -"

"- just fucking -"

"- Die!" They both finished with a huff, glaring viciously.

Draco growled. "Salazar, I hate you."

"Godric, I hate _you_." She replied, staring into his eyes. They were a startling grey. It was almost as if they hypnotised her. Those eyes made her stop everything she did and just stare. She couldn't even remember a time when she wasn't staring into those eyes.

Draco smirked. "You're staring."

She snapped out of it and _pffft_-ed. "You're smirking."

"I do that." His voice was as cocky as it gets. It was true though. He was known for his signature, swoon-worthy smirk. It was what had his fangirls squealing and his enemies fazed.

"I've noticed." She tucked the book under her arm. The first retort which popped into his head was, _so you've been noticing me, huh?, _but he wasn't that typical. He liked to mix things up a bit, you know.

"Are we having a civilised conversation?" He leaned against the bookshelf, raising an eyebrow.

"...No." She decided.

"Good."

Hermione didn't answer, she just rolled her eyes and walked away, flicking her hair in his face. It didn't annoy him like it should have. Her hair smelt quite nice, actually. Not.

She took a seat on one of the empty circular tables, pulled out a handfull of parchments, a quill, an ink pot, and began writing an essay. Draco couldn't believe it. No girl did homework in his presence; not with him there, looking sexy as fuck.

He groaned before turning one of the chair's tucked under the table around and straddling it. He watched her write, quick and easy.

"What are you still doing here, Ferret?" She inquired, not looking up.

It caught him off guard, the question. He thought she was still immersed in her work. She looked kind of...non-annoying when she concentrated, and when she was angry, and when she laughed, and - _stop._ "Is it bothering you?"

"Yes."

"Bingo." He winked as she looked up and narrowed her eyes at him.

She set her quill down and looked at him seriously. "I'm serious, Malfoy. Yesterday, today, you've been...different." She surpressed a smile as she remembered what he'd said the last time they'd spoken. "I mean, you've been...nice, and nonjudgemental on everything I did, and not inconsiderate, and not evil, and-"

"-Do you have a point?"

"I always have a point. My point is that, - actually my question is - why are being so un-Malfoyish to me?" She whispered sharply, not wanting anyone else to hear.

Draco stayed silent for a moment. Just a moment as he ran a hand through his hair. "Because I can."

And that was all he had to say to get his point out, to change everything between them.

She stared at him, speechless. And when she did speak, it came out unintelligable and barely even words. "I - uh, but - you? - Malfoy-"

He rolled his eyes and held his hand out for her to take. "Don't over-think it, Granger."

And she didn't. For the first time in - forever, really - she didn't over-think something a dozen times before agreeing to it. She tentatively took his hand and shook it, afraid that it would all be a prank, resulting in her getting electrocuted or something. It was soft, his hand; which was a shock, really, since he seemed to be so rough and tough all the time. Her hand was warm in his, and he didn't mind - warmth was always appreciated.

They shook once, but he didn't let go. He was staring right into her eyes, and it seemed as if she could see right through him, through his hard exterior into the man no one had ever known.

She cleared her throat, and he blinked, as if coming back into reality. He pulled his hand away smoothly, playing it off as nothing.

"Uh, don't you have that big match today?" She asked, her cheeks coloured.

He'd almost forgotten. "Right." He stood up and tucked the chair in. But then Draco pressed his palm on the table and leaned down to whisper before he made a move to leave, "Come watch."

Hermione rolled his eyes and turned to stop him from leaving. "I think you're pushing your luck now, Malfoy."

He smirked. "You have something better to do?"

Hermione thought of her quills and assignments and novels. "Of course."

"You'll come."

"I will certainly not. I don't even like Quidditch."

"You'll come."

"Wrong again. Gryffindor's not playing, it would ridiculous for me to appear to a Slytherin versus Ravenclaw match."

"See you at the match, Granger."

"No, you bloody won't!"

* * *

Equipped and ready to win, the Slytherins soared the air, loving the limelight and immense cheering of the adoring crowd.

The Ravenclaws were yet to arrive, but the seats were almost completely full, even though two houses weren't even playing. The Hufflepuff girls cheered and swooned, as the Slytherins flew past, winking or tossing them a smirk. The Ravenclaws booed and groaned, and the Slytherins, well they obviously cheered and ridiculed the Ravenclaws with no avail. There were not many Gryffindors, of course. Only about twenty, or so. Here to enjoy the beautiful sport which was Quidditch.

Draco searched the crowd, all the while dodging the knickers and bras thrown at him. Where was that stupid, bushy head?

Blaise flew up to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know how the fuck you did it, Malfoy. But you did." He was beyond pissed with himself; of course the twat got her to come. Damn, he was going to get a weeks' detention, running around partly flashing everyone.

Draco gave him a quizzical look. Blaise just tipped his head in the direction of a crowded part of the stands, and muttered. "Still won't win the bet, though."

She was there, walking through the benches and finally sitting herself down next to Longbottom, before grabbing a rather large book and setting it open on her lap. He couldn't believe it. She was actually reading when there was a Quidditch match to be started? Good God.

It actually made him smile, her bookworm self.

He always got what he wanted.

Not that he wanted anything but to win the bet.

* * *

"Oh come on! My nan could've saved that. Wake up keeper!" Zacharias Smith, one of the two commentators - and the snarkiest one, at that, - spoke into the microphone, his voice a great contrast to the day-dreaming Ravenclaw seated beside him. "Fifteen-nil, Slytherin."

Draco was in the zone, but his eyes kept searching for the snitch, the one thing he needed to make this game perfect. He started running circles around the Ravenclaw seeker, just to humiliate them further.

"Oy! Malfoy, play the game! And you Ravenclaws, lose with a little respect will you?" Smith continued, ignoring the glares from the Ravenclaw players and sneers from the Ravenclaws.

Luna Lovegood, the glazed-eyed witch wearing a huge lion hat, spoke next, "Did anyone else feel a Wrackspurt climbing in through their ears? They're cute when they're not making everything fuzzy, but then again - they are invisible, so only-"

"-And I'd rather listen to _that_, than watch this devestating loss any longer!" The crowd could hear the smirk in his voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes, only glancing up from her book every few minutes to see the status of the match. It wasn't so bad, now that she actually watched regularly. Of course, she didn't know exactly everything about the sport, or much, really. What was surprising to her, was that, whenever the bookworm's eyes went to the field, they instantly landed on the blonde haired, grey eyed Slytherin soaring the skies.

A whirlwind of applause and cheers erupted from the stands as the final whistle blew, giving the Slytherins the victory they deserved. Hermione closed her book and looked up for the last time. Draco was taking in all of the love and adoration, flying higher and higher.

The crowd was clearing quickly, the Ravenclaw players already gone and the Slytherins setting their feet on the ground. His teammates patted his back and congratulated him for taking the team further. Everyone hit the showers except Draco and Theo.

Nott walked up to him, a huge grin on his face. "I saw Granger."

Draco smirked. "As did I."

"How'd you do it?"

"Challenged her."

"Insightfull."

Draco looked towards the direction he saw Hermione sitting earlier. She was packing her bag with her brick-sized book. He turned back to Theo as he threw his broom at him. Theo caught it. "I'll be in the common room in ten."

"By all means," Theo glanced at Granger. "Take your time."

Draco rolled his eyes before jogging up the stands towards her. She didn't notice him coming, so when he said, "Enjoy the game, Granger?" she jumped and turned to see him crossing his arms and watching her.

She put a hand to her chest to calm her heaving chest. "God, Malfoy. You scared me half to death." She glared at him and shouldered her bag. "Bye."

He grabbed her wrist before she could leave. "You haven't answered my question."

She looked at his hand on her wrist then back at him. His hair was dishevelled, his face slightly shiny with sweat. "Yes."

"Yes?"

She shook his hand off hers. "It wasn't all that bad."

He smirked. "Have I just done the impossible? Made bookworm Granger come and enjoy a Quidditch game?"

Hermione tried to hide her smile. "Shut up, Malfoy." She looked down and then ran up the steps out of the stadium.

Draco just stared after her, a small smile playing on his lips.

He _did_ like challenges.

* * *

Now that was LOONG. Still VOTE FOR WHETHER YOU WANT BLAISE/GINNY OR BLAISE/LUNA. Just leave a review or PM me. Do it.

Review. :)


	6. Butterbeer Clause

Author's Note: Haven't updated in ages. Sorry. Was checking out the Olympic village and that. Pretty cool stuff, got to say. Yes, I know, I KNOW. OVERUSED PLOT OF TWENTY QUESTIONS. Screw it, what the hey? Let's do this cliche, overused shit thing. Gets long-winded and kind of boring near the end, but I needed to update, so voila.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 6, 595. ( .GOD. THAT IS LOOOOONG. DO _**NOT **_expect that anymore!)

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out? So, I was thinking; you know how people rate their fics PG? It's not like the reader's gonna' have a parent/guardian sit next to them and proof-read it. That would be funny. Hehe. Okay, I'm done.

Chapter: (6) Butterbeer Clause.

Questions:

**Since they're sort-of Heads, do they have a separate dorm to share between them? - SerpentofDarkness.**  
Ah, I was hoping someone would ask that. The sleeping arrangement here, let's say, is Draco & Blaise & Theo in one of the Slytherin dorms. Ginny and Hermione sharing a Gryffindor dorm, and Harry and Ron are sharing another Gryffindor dorm. As Head Prefects, they will get a room to share between them, but it won't be dormitories, it'll probably be a common room or something - haven't quite thought it through. Also, since the actual Heads aren't chosen yet, there might be a possibility for a whole Heads area for them, you know, the usual. I hope that answers your question.

And I wanna' say I absolutely adore you for asking these questions. They're fantastic, since I can't explain everything in the story. I love your questions; feel free to ask as many as you want, Divi.

**The Blaise's Girlfriend Phenomenon.  
**Right, so I'm not even joking when I say Bluna beat Blinny by a landslide. I mean, damn. I, personally, have never read a Blaise/Luna fanfic in...ever. But now I really want to, with all you guys loving the pairing so much. 21 - Blaise/Luna and 9 - Blaise/Ginny. I think you can figure out who won.

**Why do you need a new Beta? - (Don't remember who.)  
**Not NEW. I don't have one. Not sure on giving it to someone, then waiting before I post. But then again; I do make a lot of mistakes and I finish at night, so I SERIOUSLYCANNOT be bothered to check it through.

**Note -** Also, for those of you who don't know, Butterbeer is not alcoholic, so neither of them become drunk during the moment you shall come across as soon as you stop reading this long-arse author's note.

Read&Review, you lovely people.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

"Holy galloping nargles, is that what I think it is?" Luna's voice sounded amongst the whooping, the cheers and the giggling of the crowds gathered along the gardens. Half of the lot didn't even know what the crowding was about, but the few that did, couldn't help but burst into laughter before the half-naked Slytherin even walked past them.

Ginny Weasley, who was standing next to her, peering over a lanky sixth year Hufflepuff grinned and pulled back to face the blonde. "If a slim, Italin Slytherin in nothing but boxers is what you think, then you couldn't have been more right, blondie."

Luna looked confused. "Why, I was going to say that flock of nargles were the ones who stole my shoes." She looked down at her necklace, and tapped the cork at the end of the strings of bright beads. "I guess this one's faulty. I'll need to get another. Do you know anyone happening to have a butterbeer cork lying around?" She was looking at Ginny now, who was giving her a perplexed frown.

The Weasley had to rub her temples to keep herself from screaming at the top of her lungs at how nothing the Ravenclaw said, made any sense. "No, Luna. No, I don't."

Lovegood shrugged, and smiled lightly. Ginny couldn't help but smile too, after rolling her eyes, of course. That's when the cheering started up again.

Blaise Zabini, accompanied by a smirking Draco and a laughter-stifling Theo on either side of him, made his way down the corridoor.

In nothing but his underwear; which was, to the girls' pleasure, a pair of plaid boxers.

Hermione raised her eybrows at the crowds as she walked through, her arms carrying a stack of books - hardbacks containing hundreds of facts already jammed into the bookworm's head. She was walking straight through the gap created by the people, giving them odd looks as they stared ahead, laughing and pointing. It wasn't at her, thank Merlin. She almost bumped into who the attention was for, though.

When her eyes laid on the beet red Zabini showing much more skin than necessary, her jaw dropped and the first thing Draco expected her to say - or yell, -was along the lines of, "No nudity on School premises. Two hundred points from Slytherin, and a month's detention for you, Zabini!"

But what she said surprised Draco and the rest of the crowd. Hermione's agape mouth became her lips pressed together to contain her laughter. "Gosh, Zabini. I understand that you'd want the attention, living in Malfoy's shadow all your life, but this," She gestured to his half nakedness. "-however effective, is really not the way."

She smirked when he ran his hands down his face. Draco couldn't help but laugh along with everyone else. She didn't fail to surprise him this time. He guessed she wasn't so much of a prude, afterall. Blaise groaned. "It was a dare, Granger." He left out that it was due to her that he was in only his underwear, thinking it was better to be naked and without a red eye.

"Of course it was." Hermione patted his flat stomach twice. "Though I'd steer clear of the custard tart, if I were you." She made a move to leave, but stepped back and looked at him again. "Oh, and before I forget. Month's detention, Zabini. Dress appropriately, please."

The crowd laughed, Theo and Draco laughed and heck, even Blaise had to laugh a little. And with that said, she was going to walk past, which she did, but not without having her fingers brushed against Draco's, purposely on behalf of him, of course.

She turned her head to see who'd touched her, only to spot Draco looking at her intently, as he walked back with the rest of the Slytherins. He smirked as his eyes slid over her, taking her in.

She tore her eyes from his and walked away, quickly.

* * *

"And that," Snape finished, glaring at the class in turn. "Is why anything below an Outstanding, is insufficient."

The oldest witches and wizards attending Hogwarts stared back at him, some wondering how his nose had gotten so pointy, some already dreading the dozens of upcoming lessons. Hermione Granger, however, was already taking notes, even though nothing had even been taught yet.

Draco watched her from the back of the class, leaning back in his seat, fingers lightly tapping the table in front of him. Everything she did, from the way she wrote, to the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear every few seconds, and even the lock of hair which continued to get into her eyes, annoying her to no end. She would huff impatiently when he was lucky, her cheeks flushing. It was interesting. _She_ was interesting. And now he had the bet to use as an excuse, he could finally find out what about her was so intriguing. Maybe it was the fact that she was so different from every other girl in Hogwarts, her appearance and interests and way of thinking – all of it.

Theo muttered under his breath, "Is it just me or does he look like he wants to skin us alive."

Draco noticed the two idiots with the names Weasley and Potter, receiving the dirtiest of looks from Snape. "You mean, skin them alive."

Blaise, who was seated next to them, shivered and rubbed his arms. "Damn it, Draco! When can I put on some bloody clothes? I agreed to nakedness in the gardens."

Snape, who had the hearing of a bat, perked up and looked their way. "Yes, Mr Malfoy. Do tell us how much long we have to endure this eye-sore."

Draco, who was the only one, as it seemed, who wasn't scared of Snape, smirked. "Soon enough, Sir. A bet's a bet."

To everyone's surprise, Snape merely nodded and proceeded with the class. "Pairs. You will be put into pairs, which will last for the remainder of your time here at Hogwarts. Work with them, combine your abilities-" He looked pointedly at Ron and Harry. "-however weak the outcome may be, - and try not to strangle them before your final grade is decided; as they will not be of your house."

The class was filled with a combination of groans and gasps.

Snape sneered down his nose at the pupils. "Your partners are as follows." He picked up a parchment from his desk. "Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood." Blaise winked at the Ravenclaw, who tilted her head in slight confusion. "Theodore Nott and Ginny Weasley." Harry inwardly groaned. He'd been trying to get the ginger's attention for months, years even. "Ron Weasley and Zacharias Smith." Ron complained instantly, only to be silenced by a look. "Harry Potter and Padma Patil." It wasn't that bad, Harry decided. "And finally, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger."

Neither of them could bring themselves to be angered, annoyed or even slightly upset by the decision.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He sneered. "Get next to your partners before new years. It'll be your permanent seat from now on."

The class bustled into action, picking up books and bags and hurrying to their seats. Hermione, after piling her books and shouldering her messenger bag, looked up at the Slytherin a few rows away, before walking over with a roll of her eyes.

He smirked as she came and sat beside him. "And they always come back for more."

She fake-laughed. "More of what, exactly? More of your annoying, witty remarks that make me want to pull my hair out? No thank you."

His smirk became hotter, not to her, but to...others. "Witty?"

She didn't bother responding. Actually, she couldn't think of anything to say about her wrong use of words.

He looked at her intently before turning and opening his Potions book to one of the pages Snape had mentioned briefly; unlike some Gryffindors, he didn't need to be told twice. He saw her do the same from the corner of his eye.

"This lesson is for research. You must find the ingredients, and method to successfully make a cauldron of Amortentia. For those of you who don't know what that is; find out. You will get to the brewing next lesson, so I suggest you hurry." He scowled. "Get to work."

Draco leaned in towards her and whispered softly in her ear. She smelled like Vanilla. So he inhaled the sweet scent. "Aren't you loving this year already?"

He definitely was.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had been given a lot of labels during his short, but eventful lifetime. His father's usual ones for him were _utter disgrace; weak, scrawny boy _and sometimes when he was lucky, it was _joke to the Malfoy family. _When he'd started school, it was a mixture. His followers usually addressed him as _sir; almighty, gorgeous one _or_ Slytherin Sex God _- which was admittedly a personal favourite. The others - older, wiser gits, - went along the lines of _Devil's spawn _and_ Death Eater's bastard. _The Gryffindors were used to _ferret, _and to be honest, he preferred it than the rest.

The long-arse label that tended to roam his head quite a bit of the time - he was surprised he even remembered half of the shit, - was_ Pureblooded arse with lack of intelligence; thinks he's better than everyone else because daddy's got a big old checkbook; and belittles everyone by insulting their heritage and ridiculing their flaws. _

It had been almost logical for him to escape the labelling world and - with his hands clutching the railing, and his hair blowing in the wind - retreat to the Tower, where he was just _Draco. _How ironic that his most remembered label was given at said place; though that was irrelevant. He'd been coming here since he was halfway through sixth year. That was more or less when things started becoming so complicated.

"Are you going to stare at me all night, Granger?" Draco suddenly said, turning his head to see the Gryffindor he'd sensed moments earlier. He smirked, but it was tight and forced. He couldn't even smirk his smirk, with all those bottled up feelings getting to his head. "I mean I know I'm bloody gorgeous, but I usually deal with the fangirls _before_ midnight."

Hermione rolled her eyes without thinking twice about the action. She had pulled on a clashing sweater over her pajamas, needing to get some fresh air before it was too late into the night. Her hands were rubbing her upper arms, trying to use the friction to her advantage, with the cool night breeze blowing her tied-back hair all over the place. She looked at him, and Draco felt as if she was looking right through him once again. It scared him. So he turned away, and stared at the dark sky once again.

He had a hard exterior for a reason.

Draco heard her footsteps, slow but firm, approach him. He was holding a bottle of Butterbeer, which he clutched tightly at the moment. She did what she did the last time they were here together; she held the railing and breathed. And when she spoke, it didn't seem directed at him, but as if she was talking to herself. "Isn't everything just beautiful at night?"

He answered, not taking the time to think up a arrogant or sarcastic remark to annoy her. It was almost an open pass to comment about nightly activities people usually took part in, but he didn't feel all that crude at the moment. "It's the best part of the day."

She continued, nodding slightly, but still not looking at him. "It's when you can just let go of all the expectations and thoughts people have of you, and just be-"

"- yourself." He finished softly, not looking at her either. The back of his mind kept nagging at him to stop being such a wuss, and act like the cool guy to impress the girl; but some part of him just kept going - slightly wondering how the hell she knew what he was feeling. He took a swig from his bottle.

Hermione was surprised to say the least. Her head snapped towards him, her eyebrows raised. "Who are you?"

It was an odd question. A very odd question since she'd known the guy for over six years, more or less. Draco certainly found it weird as he looked at her as if she deserved a bed in St. Mungos. "Excuse me?"

"Who are you?" She repeated, completely ignorant of her insanity.

He smirked, changing his mind on what he was to say as the bottle left his lips once again. "The sexiest guy in the Wizarding World?"

But she looked serious, the crazy bitch. Hermione just rolled her eyes once again and clarified her question. "How you acted, just a second ago, and the last time we were up here...is not you. It's not the Malfoy I know."

"So you're not denying my sexiness?" He avoided her question, but one look at her and he realised he had to if he was to stay up here in peace. "Do me a favour, Granger, and remind me when you became such an expert on me?"

She faltered. "I - uh, I...I guess I know the Malfoy everybody else knows."

"Doesn't that answer your question?" His voice had taken a softer, lighter tone. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, not intending on carrying on, but doing so. "Besides, a...less stupid Gryffindor once told me the night is when we can just be ourselves."

She answered after a few long moments, the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. "Smart girl."

Draco remembered the bet. He needed to talk to her, get her to like him. And, eventually, undeniably fall in love with him of course. "So what you're saying is; you're not the bookworm prude everyone sees lives in the Library?" He asked, as he looked at her.

She smiled a small smile. "Nothing gets by you, Malfoy."

Malfoy shrugged with a smirk. "I'm insightful like that. And so I ask," He looked at her intently. "Who are _you_?"

Hermione had never thought about it. Her nose scrunched as did her eyebrows in deep thought. Who was she, really? Harry potter's best friend? Brightest witch of her generation? Muggleborn bookworm? Suddenly, she got it.

She looked back at him, and mirrored his smirk. "Hermione Granger." With her eyes smug, she finished. "And you are?"

Draco smirk turned into an ammused grin. He leaned his elbow against the railing, facing her and giving her all the attention he had. Though, honestly, his attention span was miniscule. "Draco. Draco Malfoy."

She gave a short laugh, and looked away.

"Sleepy?" He asked, drinking a little more.

"Not even a little." She spotted the drink in his hand and pointed. "What is that?"

He looked down at it instinctively. "Butterbeer." She nodded, and he held it out for her.

Hermione merely shook her head, though some part of her wanted it. The fact that Malfoy had drank from the same bottle didn't make her want it any less, unlike she'd expected. It did the opposite, slightly. Why the fuck was wrong with her? _Just forget it, Hermione. The oxygen's getting to your head._ "How'd you get it into Hogwarts?"

"If I'm not mistaken, us Slytherins are known for our sneaky ways."

She rolled her eyes, probably not for the last time that night, she guessed.

He smirked. "Why? Going to grass on me?"

Hermione played along. "Of course. Just when I go back to being the teacher's pet in the morning, though."

Draco had to admit. He didn't hate this - this little conversation - as much as he wished he did. "Well in that case," He took a nice long drink. "Might as well make the most of it."

The young Granger didn't know what had come over her that moment, I mean, she would look back at it and think - was I high or something? She'd never been the conversation-starter anyways. So what she did next, was quite out of character. Or more like, out of the character she was expected to be.

She looked at him, and feeling her gaze on her, he looked back from staring at the view. Her voice didn't seem like hers when she said, "Ever heard of Twenty Questions?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Not a fan of idiotic muggle things."

Hermione sighed. "It's a game." She started to feel insecure. "Er, no. You know what? Just forget I even brought it up. I've got to g-"

She made a move to leave, when he stopped her. "Granger, wait." He didn't - couldn't - say sorry. He'd never had to in his life. And it wasn't as if he tried. "I-" He gave her a little smile. "Hey, I like games."

"No, just forget it-"

"-Come on Granger, I'm too intrigued to let it go now." Draco sat on the ground, his usual sitting position with one of his knees up and one flat, like his leg against the floor.

Hermione didn't try to leave again; she just rolled her eyes and sat on the terrace floor, her back leaning against the cold railing. "I ask you a question, and then you ask me one - any question - until we've asked -"

"- Let me guess." He rolled his eyes. "Twenty questions."

She smirked. "Not second in the year for nothing, I see." He smirked at her remark and took another swig of Butterbeer. "All the questions must be answered with the honest truth and-"

Draco looked down at the container in his hand. There was still a lot left. "How about we make this a bit more interesting?" He offered.

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm listening."

He put the bottle down onto the ground between them. "We answer the questions, and if we don't answer truthfully - we take a drink, letting the other person _know_ the truth. Sometimes it's easier to lie and be found out than to be honest about our secrets."

Hermione had to agree. It was true. Some things were better left unsaid, and shown instead. It slightly worried her though. She expected simple questions, not something they would lie about.

"Fine." She tightened the hair band holding back her locks. "I'll start."

He complained instantly. "Why do you get to start?"

"Because I came up with the game."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought it was called twenty questions, not fucking Granger's game."

"Well I brought it into the conversation."

"I made it better."

"Oh please, you're being a child."

"Ah, Granger. I think there are enough girls to prove you wrong."

"What are you-" She understood finally, the smirk, the cocky voice. "Ugh. You're incorrigable. I'll. Start."

He smirked, liking the way she didn't back down from fights. She was a fighter herself, and it amused him, to say the least. "Whatever you want." His voice was low as his eyes sweeped over her, her knees hugging her chest, her arms wound around them.

She glared at him, and opened her mouth to say somethings along the lines of _what was the point of the whole complaining? _But she ended up asking her first question. "What's your favourite colour?"

"My favourite colour? You can ask me any damn thing you want, and I'd have to answer truthfully by Twenty Questions law, and you ask me what my _favourite colour is_?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You _answer_ questions, not judge them."

He stared at her for a few long moments before sighing and looking away, at the huge statue in the middle of the tower. "Slytherin green. And may I say, you suck at this game."

"Shut up, Malfoy. It's your bloody turn." She eyed the bottle of beverage stood upright on the cold floor. It looked tempting.

"And unlike you, I'm going to use it to my full advantage." He smirked before finishing. "Ever kissed anyone?"

Granger sputtered for a reply. His question definately caught her off guard, and it wasn't one she really wanted to answer. Personal things were kept private for a reason. No wonder he insinuated the Butterbeer Clause. She cleared her throat, her eyes darting down to her fiddling hands on their own accord. "You can't ask that."

"Do you have a rulebook to back that up? Because if I recall correctly, you said I can ask _any question_. And I think that falls under the category of _any._" Draco grinned triumphantly. He'd won, Hermione knew it.

She had no retort. After breathing deeply, she answered his nosy question. "Yes."

"Who, exactly? No wait; when? How many?"

"Oh, I don't think so." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "You've had your turn." She tapped her chin with her forefinger in concentration. "How...many girls have you kissed?"

"Stealing my ingenius question. Can't blame you."

Hermione blinked once, impatiently.

"Come on, Granger. You really think I can keep count?"

"Are you that much of a pig?" She scowled and rolled his eyes. "Man whore."

"Hey," He held his hands up as if to say, _not my problem_. "You asked."

"You can't give me a rough number?"

"Is that another question? Because I _will_ count it."

"You're impossible and no, you will not." She pretty much demanded.

"Bossy." He was smirking, as if he was approving of the characteristic. "Ten, taking in mind that I don't kiss every bird I shag." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Her jaw dropped open. "How charming." She leaned her chin on her palm. "What do these girls see in you, anyway?"

"That question, I'm counting." He looked at her, daring her to oppose. When she didn't, he continued on with their little game. "Are you a virgin?"

"Malfoy!" The heat rushed to her cheeks, and her hands started fiddling, her fingers wringing together. "_That is crossing the line_."

"There's a line? Remind me when you drew it into my path?"

"Two questions." She held up her fore and middle finger and wiggled them. "Just lost them."

He had to smile an ammused smile. She used his trick on hers in a matter of seconds. It was almost...Slytherin worthy. "Not bad, Granger. I'm impressed."

"My life goal is finally complete. And answering your question; no, I'm not."

Draco's mouth dropped open. He was about to burst out a dozen questions, his voice probably louder and slightly higher than usual. The answer angered him for some reason. It made his nerves buzz and his mind cloud with the need to throttle someone. Preferably the one Granger was talking about.

That's when she took a swig of Butterbeer.

All the anger, the frustration vanished just like that. He raised a curious eyebrow. She shrugged, the back of her mind admiring the way he had the ability to move each of his brows individually. "I got thirsty." She explained.

Draco smirked. "Fair enough."

"How many times have _you_ had...-"

He was going to put her on the spot, talk about sex; but then he remembered the bet. He decided to let her beat around the bush for a bit. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know."

"Mere curiosity." She defended quickly.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Good thing I'm a lioness." She subconsciously licked her lips, tasting the remainder of the sweet drink on her mouth. At his lack of reply, she confusedly went on to explain, not understanding why he couldn't grasp such a simple pun. "Because I'm in Gryffindor? The emblem on the-"

But Draco was too busy watching the way her pink tongue darted out and swiped over the supple-looking, plump skin of her lips. It moistened her mouth, as well as the inside of his. It was usually something - the attraction to lips, - he associated with incredibly hot, incredibly blonde, incredibly slutty girls.

She snapped him out of his not-quite-PG thoughts with a, "You know what? Just answer my question, for Merlin's sake."

He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from those tantalising lips. "Right, uh, I guess quite a few. Most of them I didn't actually fuck, just oral stuff really. More than ten, less than fifteen. Let's say twelve, just to be safe." He got a glimpse of her disgusted look from the corner of his eye. "Too much information?"

"More than needed, yes." She said finally, feeling incredibly inexperienced, immature. Something she'd never felt before.

"Who have you kissed and when?"

"That's cheating!"

"How so?"

"Two questions in one." She said it as if it as the most obvious thing in the world.

"Show me the rulebook." He demanded, leaning back.

"Malfoy, that is not fair. And don't give me that shit about life not being fair, because I _seriously_ hate that line."

"Granger." He smirked, knowing all too well that she wasn't going to win this particular little tat either. What was it now? 2:0, to him? "Show me the rulebook." He teased, lengthening out his words to annoy her further.

"Ugh." She gave up. "Viktor Krum, fourth year. After the dance, he just kind of...kissed me. And...all of this is just staying between us, right?"

"I thought that was implied." He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, well. That's all." She sighed. "Besides, it's my turn. Have you ever fallen in love?"

"Love?" He let out a short, humourless laugh. "You have to be kidding me. There is no such fucking thing."

"Aren't you just the biggest ball of sunshine?"

"You're telling me, that you believe in all that shit? Come on, Granger. This isn't one of your muggle, romance novels. Get real."

"Get real?" She was unreasonably angry. "Malfoy; it's not some mythical shit made up by some estranged author. There's proof. There's proof all around us."

"Oh really? Because in my experience; love is nothing beyond absolute bullshit."

"And what experience would that be?" She scoffed. "Those dozen girls you've shagged that you have absolutely no feelings for?"

"Yes. And nice work figuring out my lack of emotions towards them." He told her, like he was congratulating her common sense. "There's also a little something I like to call my fucking childhood." The way he said the last part, was dead serious and slightly by accident. He didn't want to discuss his inner most feelings about his family and his life.

She decided to talk more about the first point, with the sluts. The second part seemed like too much of an important, delicate topic to argue about. "How could I not? You've only had..._you know_, with them once, right?"

"As if I'd let them be so happy." He smirked, then rolled his eyes, feeling a _women's feeling's count too! _speech coming on. "Yeah, once. I don't let them get too attached. It'll just make things so much worse when I..."

"Dump them?"

"I wouldn't say dump. That would imply that we actually had a relationship."

There was silence for a few long moments.

"Malfoy." She started hesitantly. "About your childhood." She looked at him in time to see him clench his jaw.

"Me mentioning it once, doesn't leave the door open to discuss it."

"...You didn't close the door. Didn't lock it. Can't expect me not to try and get in." She whispered.

He looked at her, so intently that she started to heat up. He couldn't understand, couldn't conceive that someone would want to know more about his messed up childhood. "I locked the door years ago. No one's ever tried to open it."

"Maybe someone had to."

_"No one's ever spoken to me like that." __Granger raised her eyebrows. "Well, maybe someone had to." __He looked out onto the grounds once again. "...Maybe." _

Draco smiled, genuinely smiled, remembering the way she used those words in a completely different scenario. He decided to follow her lead. "Maybe." But this time he looked right at her, daring her to ask more. He wanted to talk, he needed to speak to someone about everything. And believe it or not, the only person who understood and listened...was her.

She smiled back, but it faded quickly when she cleared her throat and spoke. "I guess you can count this as a question, so...your childhood. How was it?"

They was less of a gap between them than earlier. "I'm not sure if you can take it without feeling sick halfway through."

"I think you underestimate me."

"Well, let's hope so." He muttered softly. When he looked back at her, from his gaze so far away; she was sure she was starting to get feverish. She wanted to look away, but it'd just make him think that she wasn't going to listen. Hermione nodded, urging him further. "My family, believe it or not, was not so dysfunctional when I was born. Fath - _he_ and my mother seemed as if they cared a lot about me, being the only child. We used to do a lot together; most of the time. I even remember when I ran away once," He smiled a sad smile as he remembered. "It was the first time; and I did it to get them out of the house, to stop working so hard. I got into a shitload of trouble, but it was worth it."

Hermione laughed softly, shortly.

His gaze became darker. "But when I started magic, when I was - I don't know, five? Things changed. Everything, in fact. We became distant. He made us distance. He worked me hard and long, perfecting spells, memorising them every day. I started flying; I loved it straight away. But he didn't want me to waste my time on feeble activities; I needed to be the best Death Eater to have ever lived. He kept feeding me these vile opinions of people, people like you." He looked directly at her eyes.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

"I didn't want to believe it, but he would make sure that I did." He looked away. "I'd get punished for holding my wand wrong, and I mean cruel, painful punishment. Mother tried to stop him, but when he started hurting her too, I made sure she didn't try to intervene again."

All the images he was describing flashed before her eyes. She felt them water with empathy.

"As I got older, the training got stricter, he got angrier. I ran away three times after that. Only once did I make it out of the Manor's grounds."

Hermione took an unsteady breath. "What happened?"

"It was dark, I didn't know where I was going. I got to this clearing. There was a tree, a huge-arse tree. I slept under it. When I woke up, there was a wand to my throat." He shook his head to clear the thought. When he turned to her, he smirked, but it was anything but believable. "Feel sick?"

"No."

He nodded slowly. "That makes one of us." He took a drink, but it was just to hydrate himself again. "After that, he took me to Meetings. Made me watch every single Muggle and Mudblood squirm and writhe in pain as they laughed and crucio'd them. Every scream, every jerk of their muscles, I could feel it. It's not something you forget. I used to get nightmares." He left out the part that he still got those nightmares. "About them coming after me after they'd died. They didn't do anything, just made me feel so_ fucking bad_ about my self that I wished I'd had died instead of them. I regret not being able to do anything. I was scared. Of him and everything going on around me." His eyes were unfocused, glassy even. "I wish I could go back. Save them. Save myself."

Hermione sat there, thinking through everything he said. This was definitely the Malfoy no one else knew.

He blinked, as if coming out of a trance and sat up sharply.

She was startled by his sudden movement. "Malfoy? You okay?"

"Did I just say all of that? To _you_?"

She smiled slightly. "Maybe."

"Fuck. Look, if you ever say any of-"

"-You'll kill me, yeah yeah. I know." She rolled her eyes, not angry or anything. It calmed him down, and he leaned back, rubbing his temple with two fingers. "I know you're not asking, but I'll say it anyway, since it's late...and we're here." She took a drink, and they both knew it didn't have a meaning to it. "My mum died seven years ago."

She said it so point-blank, that he couldn't help but stare. He didn't gape, his eyes didn't widen, and his mouth definitely didn't come up with _I'm so sorry, Hermione, you must feel so bad. _

No, he just looked at her when he said. "Seven years ago. That was way before the War."

"Yeah." She whispered.

"How?"

"No one's really knows." She admitted. "I mean, the doctors, - Muggle Healers - said it was something in her brain. But then again, they were the same people who had no idea Magic exists, so I wouldn't completely trust their judgement. I was here, you know. In Hogwarts at the time. I was just doing some homework, like nothing happened, when Professor Dumbledore came in with a note. You know what I did afterwards? After finding out that my mother just died?"

He stayed silent.

"I carried on with my homework. That's it, Malfoy. I did my fucking homework like a good little girl that day. It was only at night that I burst."

"Tell me about her."

"You actually care?"

Anger flickered in his eyes, but he tried not to act on it. "I'm not incapable of it, if that's what you're asking."

"That's not what I meant." Hermione tried.

"Hey, I _made_ this reputation, didn't I? Who am I to complain?"

"Her name, was Monica. She was...amazing. She was smart, a dentist. That's like a Healer, but only for teeth. And beautiful. The best cook ever, that was for sure. She handled everything so well, I used to just watch as she flew around the house, cleaning, cooking, working, talking to me. She was my best friend, too."

"What else?" He was intrigued.

"She believed in forgiving people, no matter what." Hermione stared at him for a moment. "She would've liked you."

He was surprised when she didn't take a drink, and this time, he showed it. But, recovered quickly, so he could reply with a, "How could she have not? I'm God's Gift to Women."

Hermione merely rolled her eyes. How many times could one do that in one night? "You know, you're the only one who hasn't said _I'm so sorry, _the minute I mentioned her."

"Should I have? I didn't mean to be disrespectful, I-"

"-No, I'm glad. You don't feel sorry for me, it's the best reaction I've had. I appreciate it." She smiled lightly. "Thank you."

"Right. I'm going to carry on with our little game." Her ears reddened at the way he said_ our_. "Since I'm sure we both have many more questions to ask."

"Couldn't be more right, Malfoy."

"Never can, can I?" He thought for a second after that cocky remark. "What's your biggest fear?"

"Woah, a deep question. Didn't expect that from you."

"I'm a deep guy."

She scoffed, but didn't deny it, not after tonight. "Yeah, well." The Know-it-all sighed shakily. "Voldemort coming back and taking away the people I love."

"Can't disagree."

"Do you still have those nightmares?"

"You remember that? Merlin." He groaned. "Yes. Now, what's going on with you and Weasel-bee?"

"Nothing! Are you crazy?" She almost laughed, but thought better of the cruel act. "We're just friends."

"Doesn't seem so, the way he stares at you." His voice was harder. The last thing he needed was the Weasel-bee getting in the way of him winning the bet.

"He doesn't think of me like that, and I definitely feel nothing towards him. Drop it, already."

"Whatever."

"The bet, between you and Blaise, what was it about?"

For one long moment, Draco froze. How could she know? There's no way she knew. Then he realised that she was on about the one Draco had already won. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, that. Nothing important, just a Quidditch wager." At her waiting look, he continued, not wanting to tell her that they'd bet on her activities. If he knew girls as well as he thought he did, he was sure she'd blow her top. "Like I said, not important, nor interesting."

She nodded, only because she didn't have enough energy to argue or barter.

"Favourite food?"

"Trifle. Yours?"

"Turkey. Now that, is some _good_ meat."

"Best birthday you've ever had?"

"You've already had your turn, Granger."

"I'm curious."

"And I'm tired, so I won't argue. But you should know that if I did; I'd win."

"Sure, Malfoy."

He grinned and answered. "Never really had a memorable one." Draco looked at her expectantly.

"Eleventh. Mum and Dad took me to this park - away from all the noise of the town, where we had a picnic and then took me to the smallest book store I'd ever seen, but Gosh was it full of everything I've ever wanted to read. We stayed up reading to each other in the park, and fell asleep under the stars. It was the last birthday I had with her."

His eyes twinkled. "That sounds like something you'd enjoy."

"It was."

He didn't want to be jealous, not at all. But some part of him wanted what she had, a great childhood, that vulnerable, childish part he hated.

"Describe your perfect girl in one word."

"Technically not a question."

"Technically not caring."

He smirked, and Hermione wondered why she didn't hate when he did that. When he spoke, he leaned in close, and whispered, his breath fanning the right side of her head. "...Different."

Her heart hammered in her chest. They both knew what she was thinking, what moment she was reliving.

"I've...I, uh, it's late. I should get going." She scurried up, brushing her clothes off after.

He smoothly lifted himself up, bottle in hand. "Going so soon?" He was smirking, his head cocked to the side.

"It's late." She explained, and turned to leave. She stopped, not yet moving and looked back, to see him watching her, his elbows on the railing as he leaned back. "Last question." She breathed deeply. "Do you hate me?"

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't act all outraged and over-the-top. "Of course I do." He gave her his classic, knee-weakening-to-any-other-girl-of course-grin.

Then he brought the drink to his lips and drank.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she took the drink from him, her fingers brushing his unintentionally. She shivered. It _was_ getting chilly. "Hate you too, Malfoy." She took a drink herself and gave it back to him.

Draco watched her leave. When she was gone, he turned around, back out at the now darker grounds.

Then it hit him.

He didn't tell her those things for the bet. He didn't have to, no one forced him (as if they could). Yes, he did think of the bet a few times during their chat, but it didn't drive him to tell her all the things he did. He never would have.

Malfoy looked down at the bottle in his hand and shook his head.

"_Too much goddamn Butterbeer_." He muttered into the darkness before finishing the remaining liquid in the bottle.

* * *

REVIEW. :) And please _**DON'T**_ expect any more chapters this long. Half this size at best.


	7. No Idea

Author's Note: First; yes. I know this update is like a freakin' year late. I've been really, really busy with allt he coursework, essays and omework I've been getting everyday. But, rest assured, I write whenever I get the free time. I'm really sorry, oh wonderful readers. I bet you thought I'd given up. Nope. I'm alive. Haven't proof read this, finished it at night so when I get up in the morning I shall read it through and find a whole bucketload of grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. But, hey. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 4, 650. _Ooh, rounded number._ _Epic. _

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (7) No Idea. _And that's the actual title for this chapter. _

_Questions:_

**Will Hermione ever find out about the bet? - night23. **  
Trying to keep things as realistic as possible with teenage wizards and witches attending a magical high school where they're sorted into rivaling houses, by a talking black hat. So, YES, she will.

**How is Hermione's relationship with her father after her mother died? - night23.  
**Well, it's something you'll find out eventually as the story goes on. But, if you're THAT curious; I'll give you a hint. The relationship isn't strained or difficult, not really.

**Note - A lot of Dramione physical contact ahead. Wear Sunscreen as it might get a little hot in here. Haha, no. Not really. They haven't even kissed yet. Mwahahaha. **

Read&Review, you - hopefully - loyal and devoted people.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

_Click. _

"Honey, you're home." Blaise announced with a high pitched, girly voice laced with teasing humour.

Being the vigilant and alert Slytherin he was; he didn't even bat an eyelash. Pulling out his wand, and muttering _Lumos; _Draco scoped the room, finding his two best mates sitting up in their beds. "Aw, you didn't need to wait up for me."

"But we get so worried." Theo smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Where've you been?"

He dropped the bottle to the floor and kicked it so it rolled under the bed. "What time is it?"

Blaise spoke up, his voice returning back to normal. "The million galleon question here, is how stupid do you think we are?"

He turned his head to face Theo. "None of you business." Then Blaise. "Very." And finally at the clock above the door. "And twelve-fourty, thanks for answering." He walked to his bed, which was across the room, against the far wall in the cubic room.

"Draco," Theo chided, as if speaking to a child. "You saw Granger, didn't you?"

"And where exactly did you get _that_ from?" Draco sat on the covers, back leaning against the headboard after he'd pulled his shirt over his head and onto the floor. He let his wand fall atop the blanket beside him, still illuminating the room.

Theo pulled out his wand from under his pillow, simultaneously with Blaise. Mutters were spoken and within a few moments, the whole room was lit with a bright bluish-whitish-tint.

Nott looked at Draco, his face clear in the light, his head tilted in a knowing way. "You look smitten." He stated with a smirk.

Draco scoffed. "And you have evidence to back that ridiculous idea up?"

Blaise interrupted. "What I'm hearing, is that you rendevousd with Granger on your little midnight walk."

"Oh." Draco turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Big words for a Zabini. What, did you swallow a dictionary or something?"

"Malfoy." They said.

He paused, for a few long moments. He rubbed his eyes. "Yes, fine, for Merlin's sake. I saw Granger. And I don't _rendevous _with anyone. I'm not bent."

"So where'd you see her?" Theo asked, nodding his head slowly.

"That's what you ask? _Where_? Who gives a fuck. What_ happened_?" Blaise intervened, appalled with his mate's choice of questions.

"We don't have three fucking wishes, genius. I was getting to that." Theo snapped, rolling his eyes at the Italian.

"Do you two have some infatuation with me and what I do in my freetime? Because I'm really not playing Twenty Questions again."

...Shit. Shitty-shit, shit.

Draco froze, cringing at the thought of having to discuss this with the two. They weren't girls, damn it - staying up all night, talking about the dreamy, gorgeous-eyed boy who was _just such a bad-boy. _No.

He tried to move again, play it off as nothing, act cool.

But ofcourse, they noticed. It was obvious with those bloody smirks plastered on their ugly mugs. He opened his mouth to speak when Theo turned to Blaise suddenly.

"Twenty Questions. You have any idea what that is?"

Blaise shrugged, still smirking. "Nah. Probably a Muggle-thing, involving Granger." He glanced at Draco, who was groaning internally. "And probably a strip-thing, involving our friend over here."

Draco groaned out loud this time. He tipped his head back to rest on the top of the wooden board. "It's a game."

"Kinky." Theo stated.

_I wish,_ he thought as he said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. "It's a Muggle game, on behalf of Granger. Involving no stripping - I'm sorry to say."

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "So if not kinky, what? Educational?"

Draco laughed shortly despite himself. "More or less."

"You expect us to believe you played Twenty Questions on the History of..." Theo searched his head for a subject. He blurted the first which came into his mind. "...Hipogriff Mating with Granger?"

"Hipogriff Mating?" Blaise grimaced. "And you say_ I'm_ sick." Theo glared at him.

"Believe whatever you want. I couldn't care less."

"But we do. And if you don't tell us, we're going to tell Parkinson your favourite hiding spot the next time she's in the mood to cling to you as if her life depends on it." Theo reasoned, smirking triumphantly with his point.

_Now, that was just low._ Draco looked at them, his eyes steely. "Tell you what? That I spent half a fucking hour, talking to Granger - up in the Astronomy tower, - about Lucius and my screwed up childhood? That she now knows more about me than probably my _own damn Mother_? That I've told her things I've never even admitted to _myself_, and it actually felt kind-of _fucking good_ confiding in her?"

Theo and Blaise stared back at him, utterly shocked into silence. Draco raised an eyebrow, daring them to say something, anything.

Theo spoke first, clearing his throat. "Right, well; Granger sure has an effect on you."

He made a sound between a pfft, and a scoff. "She has no effect on me."

"She does. And it's not half bad either." Blaise agreed, crossing his arms and leaning back.

"She does not have any bloody effect on me, you ignorant twats-,"

"-I swear you're like a PMS-ing bird. She gets you. Deal with it." Theo snapped, tired of his friend's ignorance and complete lack of common sense.

"Sod off." Draco groaned, commanded his wand to stop glowing and lied back on the bed, one of his arms under his head. There was not much to say but that. In Draco's defense, he had never talked to anyone about those sort of things. He believed no one cared. Especially Granger. So what if she got him talking? She probably knew a few good confession spells, big deal.

"Wait. It was a two-way street, wasn't it? You learnt things about her?" One of them unfortunately realised.

"Maybe." Draco muttered. The topics of her mother, her childhood, her virginity, clouded his usually logical mind.

"You're kidding me." Blaise groaned, sliding his palm down his face. This was not good. Well, actually it was very good. His friend deserved this. But the Italian was definately losing the bet at this pace.

"So, she trusts you now?"

Draco thought about that for a moment. "Not even close." Granger didn't seem like someone he could get to trust him with a few visits and a handful of confessions. She was hard work, and a pain in the arse at that.

"In that case, how're you planning on gaining it?"

Truthfully, he didn't know. He didn't have a single clue. He never had to gain trust. Never had to gain respect. It was kind of given to him on a silver platter.

"No fucking idea?" Blaise offered.

"No fucking idea." Draco repeated slowly, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

He didn't know how to go about wooing a girl. Ha, that was a first.

The funny thing was; that it wasn't even funny.

* * *

Draco Malfoy didn't walk. He glided. He didn't smile; he blinded surrounding adorers with his perfect teeth. He didn't trip; he was misguided by the clumsiness of the colliding individual with a lack of sense.

And he definitely, _definitely_, didn't fall for someone. He was the fall-ee, not the fall-er.

No matter how gorgeous they were, how sexily they could sway their hips. There was no one good enough for Draconis Lucius Malfoy. Yes, yes; it was inevitable that he had to get married sometime. He had to carry on the lineage of pureblooded, devilishly handsome, cocky-arsed Malfoys somehow. But he'd always thought it would be someone his mother chose, no strings attached, just a business deal - more or less.

And really, he didn't believe in love.

No need to gasp. It was true. And it was known by every girl he'd fucked.

You know how?

Because he hadn't 'made love' to them. Oh, please. As if. He'd whispered sweet nothings into their ears, and called them adoring nicknames. But only for that night. The next day was usually when he cut the string.

He wasn't a fan of strings.

But what he knew most of all; was that no girl had an affect on him like Granger. Maybe it was because she was the only one that wouldn't swoon at his smirk, or faint at his touch. Maybe it was because she would argue with him, unlike any other bird in the whole of bloody Hogwarts. Maybe it was because she didn't treat him any different after finding out his past. No pity, no sympathetic pats on the back or hesitant insults because it would hurt his fucking feelings.

No.

She was _different_. And it wasn't a _bad different,_ either.

It was merely interesting, that's all.

Her utter disinterest for him, interested him; ironically enough.

* * *

_The characteristics of the previously mentioned Love potion, includes a range of mother-of-pearl sheen, spiraling steam, and most importantly; the scent released varies on what the smeller- _

"Chapter Two, and I quote; 'the characteristics of the..previously mentioned Love potion, includes a range of mother-of-pearl sheen, -"

Hermione looked up from burying her head in one of the books she'd chosen for research, with an amused smile on her face. She had expected him to have known, if anyone but her. "Quoting Armotentia for Dummies. Impressive, Malfoy."

He smirked triumphantly, moving forward to take out a chair. "If I'm not mistaken, reading a book for 'dummies' makes you, ironically, a dummie." He raised an eyebrow whilst flipping around the mahogany chair and straddling it.

She rolled her eyes half-heartedly. "Oh, please. I know this book inside out."

He was still smirking. "As any dummie would."

He held her gaze for a long, long moment; until she looked away first. She was suddenly very hot in her Gryffindor robes. She tried to get back to her work, feeling his eyes burning holes in her head the whole time. When she was nervous, or thinking very hard, she had this habit of nibbling on the end of her quill - Draco noted. He seemed to notice a lot of things about her lately. The way she tucked a particular strand of hair behind her ear when it got in her face. The way she bit her lip when she was thinking one tiny thing over a dozen times. That was his favourite.

The lip biting.

"You look busy." He commented, making her scoff and look back at the book.

"I'm doing _our_ Potions research."

"And you didn't invite me to the party? I am, morally wounded." He looked over to the stacks of books in the middle of the table. "And eternally grateful."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What did you want, Malfoy?"

His voice was husky and heart-stoppingly smooth. "You really want to know what I want?"

Her cheeks burned. Everything he said had to be an innuendo. Yes, so most of them got her all flustered and blushing, but that was beside the point.

"Get your head out of the gutter." She was quite pleased with herself for not stuttering. A mental pat on the back was what she deserved.

"If that's where you are; I'd rather not." He replied instantly.

"You're an idiot." She deadpanned, looking back down at the parchment she was writing her notes on.

"And you apparently live in this place." He told her. "Come on, Granger. Did someone shackle you to this desk or something?"

"It's my favourite desk." She said matter-of-factly.

"Of course it is." He shook his head lightly. He sighed, knowing what he had to do. For fuck's sake. "You need any help?"

She looked at him funny.

Shrugging a shoulder, he replied, irritated. "_Well_?"

She snapped out of it. "Sure. If you've completely lost your mind." She ended incredilously.

"Might have." He held his thumb and forefinger up inches away from eachother. "A little."

She rolled her eyes, smiling ever so slightly and hoping it wasn't evident. She watched as he pulled out a book from one of the piles, and cracking it open. When she opened her mouth to compliment him, tell him that he had surprised her, when he took out his wand and one of the parchments in the middle of the table, and started swishing the magic mindlessly. The quill between Hermione's fingers was pulled up by some invisible force, and taken towards Malfoy, where it started writing elegantly on his sheet of paper, as he continued lazily moving his wand.

"You're insufferable."

"All part of the charm, love." He replied smoothly, lifting his eyelashes to look at her saucily.

Her heart started hammering in her chest. She could hear distant ringing, and the sound of her blood pumping in her ears. That word made her stomach clench and unclench. It wasn't the word, though. It was just a four lettered word. It was the fact that it was coming from him as an affectionate nickname. Well, without the 'affectionate nickname' part.

Wait.

_Was he flirting with her? Again? _

_And why the hell did it not make her laugh mockingly like the first time? Was it because of last night, the night before that? Their confessions? The way he made her smile and laugh however much she didn't want to?_

No. It was nothing. It was absolutely, fucking nothing. Understood, inner Hermione?

"Give me back my quill, Malfoy." She said breathlessly, partly regaining her composure.

He smirked, grabbed the feather and placed the wand on the table. "Come and get it, Granger." He whispered, lightly shaking his hand teasingly.

"Excuse me?" She almost yelled.

"You heard me." He continued in that tantalizing whisper.

She did. And she needed the writing utensil back. Oh, hell.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione reached her arm out to get it. Her fingers barely brushed the grey feather when he pulled it back. She stood from her seat, annoyed, and tried again. This time he chuckled softly, and pulled it further back and higher, completely out of her reach.

Oh, this meant war.

Draco was enjoying this thoroughly. The way her cheeks flushed, and her eyebrows furrowed in irritation. He knew she wouldn't back down from a challenge, especially not with him. He smirked even more when he turned in his seat, in direction of the girl who was stomping her way around the table.

She held her palm out in front of her, when she came by his chair. He shook his head no. Hissing, Hermione clutched at air after air, trying to get the damn quill. It had her name engraved in it, for Merlin's sake.

"Give it back, Ferret."

"You have to earn it, Granger."

"Earn it? It's mine!"

Well if it was that simple when it came down to the two of them, life would be a fucking picnic. "Then why is it not in your hand?"

"Because you stole it, you idiot." She said, reaching out on more time, but much to her surprise, instead of grabbing air - she came into contact with his hand, which tugged on hers, catching her off guard. He had successfully pulled her into his lap, in the position of her straddling him, legs on either side of his sitting form. She gasped. Her skirt rode high on her thighs, and she was thankfull that she had chosen to wear tights that day.

He was quite comfortable in this position. Quite comfortable indeed. And that was what scared him. He shouldn't have enjoyed her figure pressed up against his on his lap; she was a Mudblood. Right?

What was a Mudblood, anyway? A person filled with mud for blood? That seemed unlikely.

Oh great. And now he was second-guessing his beliefs. That was_ just brilliant._

Her heart was threatening to leap out of her chest any moment now. Their faces inches away from eachother, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Time was frozen. Everything was frozen. There was no one in the library, no one they had to look out for.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Hermione whispered almost inaudibly if they weren't so close.

He slipped the quill into her hair, above her ear where it would stay. "I have no fucking idea." He muttered, dazed by her blemishless face. He wondered it felt as soft as it looked.

"Uh, H-Hermione G-granger? Drac-c-o Malfoy?" A highly nervous, stammering voice came from behind them. Hermione turned her head slightly to spot the small third year, looking tomato red and shaking with nervousness. She leapt off the Slytherin with a yelp and patted down her robes.

Draco swore under his breath. Just when things were starting to get interesting. "_What_?" He snapped at the young Gryffindor.

"Malfoy." Hermione reprimanded, instinctively slapping his arm with the back of her hand lightly. Okay, not completely lightly.

"Violent bitch." He muttered, but she'd heard. The third year wizard stood there, pushing his glasses further up his nose. He opened his mouth to speak when Hermione turned on the blond.

"Perverted bastard."

He scoffed. "You fell on _me_, remember?"

"Yes. Because you bloody pulled me down."

"Oh please. Stop making excuses for your inevitable attraction towards me." He stood, glaring at her.

"Uh-" The boy watching the argument nervously, tried.

"Inevitable attraction? Someone please kill me."

"Oh, I would love to do the honours."

"I bet you would, you sadistic moron."

"You're the fucking violent one."

"I'm violent?

"And apparently a parrot."

"I'm going to-"

"-What? Recite all the useless shit you know, until I pass out from boredom?"

The third year almost covered his ears from this type of language. His mother had told him to steer clear of such situations. But he had a job. "Please-"

"Forgotten that I'm your superior in both hexing and wandless magic?"

"Are you _delusional_?"

"Are _you_?"

"MadamPincesentmetotellyoutwo tostopdisplayinginnapropriat eaffectionpublicly!"

"What are you on about you two-foot-Potter-look-alike?"

Come on, now that was something to be proud of. His heart swelled with pride as he took in a deep breath and repeated the purpose for his presence. "Madam Pince sent me the moment I walked in. She told me get you two to stop snogging, or in her words 'displaying innapropriate affection publicly'."

"Look what you've done now, Malfoy." Hermione crossed her arms, and jutted her chin out haughtily.

"Bollocks." Malfoy said. "She's probably just tired of you living in here."

They both turned on him, noticing his everlasting presence. "_Well_? Are you staying for an oncour?" Draco asked.

The third year shook his head vigorously and made a beeline for the door.

"It's you, you know. You've finally managed to drive her crazy with your constant breaking of library rules."

"Fuck library rules. Besides, she's already off her bloody rocker; hovering around this place her whole life." He paused and smirked. "Give yourself a few years, princess, and you'll be _just like her_."

She rolled her eyes, a blush creeping up her neck. Second time! It was the second time he'd called her a nickname. And it affected her just as much as the first.

Princess.

Was it condescending? It was, wasn't it? Good. Just how it should be.

"Screw you, Malfoy."

"Wouldn't _you_ want to."

A slap on the arm later, he huffed, an amused smile playing at his lips.

* * *

They were almost done with their Potions research about ten minutes into it, perfecting it so their Professor would have no complaints. Malfoy had just left their table to get a book he thought would help with finding the origin of Armotentia.

Their. Their? _Their!_

No, no._ No._ _Damn, Malfoy. You're getting sidetracked by a know-it-all Mudblood. Remember the goal, mate. Remember the fucking bet._

A shadow appeared above Hermione, who was writing a few notes. She looked up skeptically.

"Hello, Hermione."

It was Dean Thomas, his hands deep in his pockets as he smiled down at her. She couldn't help but smile back.

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. It was always getting into her face, even though it was pulled up into a high ponytail. Any passer by would say that she was flirting, but anyone who knew any better, would know that she didn't even know the basics of the art of flirting. "Hello, Dean. What brings you here?"

He took a seat and laced his fingers together infront of him. "A beautiful Gryffindor in need of a good time."

Being the completely ignorant and innocent girl that she was, she looked at him confused. "Thanks, Dean; but my definition of good time is exactly this."

Dean smirked. And eventhough she hated herself for thinking it, the fact was that when he smirked, she suddenly thought of Malfoy's signature smirk and how amateurish Dean's one seemed. He boldy put his hand over hers. "I have a feeling I can change that."

Hermione had this immensely puzzled look on her face. Instinctively, she jerked her hand from under his. Her fingers went to the sleeve of her other arm, fiddling with the few loose strings. "Uh, I don't quite understand-"

"Granger." A familiar voice drawled, as two hands braced the back of the chair Hermione sat in. Their hands were dangerously close to touching her shoulders. "Found a new Potions partner within two minutes? I'm wounded."

For some absurd reason, Hermione felt slightly guilty at Draco's - she'd figured it out when her skin started burning at the almost contact - words. She turned to face him, having to crane her neck up to look at him. "Malfoy, wha-"

He didn't wait for her to finish; he just pulled out his chair - as Dean had taken the other one tucked into the table,- not even looking at her when he said, "Didn't expect to find my replacement, whilst getting our research material." His voice was hard, emotionless. And the way he said our seemed somewhat...on purpose. It sounded stupid, yes, but Hermione was sure she wasn't completely crazy for thinking that. He slammed the book he'd gotten onto the table.

Granger raised her eyebrows at his hostility. "Dean's not my partner. I have a much more annoying Slytherin git as one."

Dean scowled at Draco. Hermione could sense the tension between them, though she didn't know why it even existed. Draco turned to him. "Am I interrupting your feeble attempts at flirting?"

"_Flirting_?" Hermione's incredilous voice sounded, but didn't affect the glaring contest the two seemed to participating in.

Dean acted as if she hadn't spoken. "I was doing fine until you got here."

"If that's your definition of _fine_, I'd love to see what you do when you _strike out_."

"Oh, would you?"

"I appreciate a good laugh now and then."

"Listen, you condescending jerk-"

"Dean!" Hermione was shocked. There was no reason for insults to be thrown. Well, Malfoy had already started insulting him, but that was expected.

"-What? Run out of wit already?"

"Why are you _really_ here, Malfoy?"

"I told you." His eyes were as hard as steel, the perfect pair of poker eyes. "Do you suffer from short term memory loss_and_ extreme stupidity? I'm helping Granger."

"Are you sure about that? Because the way you seem to be wanting to throttle me for being here, makes me think otherwise."

"How insightful. Let me tell you Thomas, your mere presence is enough to make me want to throttle you."

"If you have a problem with me, Malfoy. Just say so."

"You two seriously need to stop. We're in the library for Merlin's sake." Hermione desperately tried to intervene.

"Do I have to spell it out for you, you wanker?" This wasn't about Dean interrupting his plan to woo her. He did, but it wasn't driving him to argue. It was the fact that he had the audacity to flirt with Granger while he was in the middle of it, himself.

He, was the only one who could hit on the bookworm. The only damn one who could make her blush and smile. And Dean needed to know that. He was being irrational, possesive, jealous and completely like the boyfriend he was not.

"Why the hell are you so full of hatred?"

Draco almost scoffed at that. What a bender.

"He's not. He's just being trying to live up to the family name." This time they looked at her, but only for a milisecond.

"For Godric's sake. Hermione, you wanna' go somewhere?" Dean asked her, softening his voice a little.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped short when Draco answered for her. "No, she doesn't."

"_She_ can speak for herself."

"Why make your pain last longer?" He retorted. "It was her final decision anyway."

"So you read minds now, you tosser?"

"Call me that one more time, Thomas. One more fucking time, and I'm going to-"

She sighed and looked at Draco meaningfully. "Malfoy, _stop_."

He looked at her, thinking. Why would he listen to her? Especially when she was practically bossing him around, ordering him to not do what he did best. Start fights. But the way she looked at him, completely made him forget about his anger and possible jealousy. All he wanted to do then, was to just make her happy. And if that involved giving in to her nad not arguing with a very annoying Gryffindor, then so be it.

Damn it to hell. Why in the name of fuck was he thinking like that? He had absolutely no feelings for the bitch, none. He just wanted to ease himself away from the Gryffindors, of course.

After taking in a deep breath, he nodded once at her, reassuring her that he was listening.

_Thank you_. She mouthed at him before turning to the Gryffindor. "Dean, look. I know you didn't mean any harm, and yes, Malfoy's an utter twat." Said Malfoy scoffed and leaned back in his seat. He reached his arm under the table and boldly took Hermione's hand with his. She looked at him with wide eyes and mouthed _what the hell?_

He merely smirked and had such a grip on her hand that she couldn't pull away even if she wanted to. Dean's eyes narrowed at their private conversations.

Clearing her throat, and then looking at Dean again with apologetic eyes, she spoke, still trying to tug her hand away. "Where was I? Oh, right. Malfoy. Utter. Twat. As much as I appreciate your compliments and sweetness-"

Draco scowled, and then rubbed his thumb over her fingers, lacing them inbetween hers and unlacing them. He traced patterns on her palm, the contact soothing him for some absurd reason. Her hand was soft, very soft and something he wouldn't mind holding for a long, long time.

"-I really have no time to hang out or anything like that."

Draco spoke under his breath. "Yeah. Right."

She ignored him. "I'm really sorry." She finished with a sad smile, still probably not understanding that Dean wanted to date her. But damn, did it feel good for Draco to watch her friendzone the wanker.

Dean nodded slowly with pursed lips, pushed his chair back with a scrape against the wooden floor, and left.

Then, Hermione yanked her hand away and turned on him with anger. "What the fuck do you think you were doing?"

_I have no fucking idea? _Distracting you." He replied smoothly. "It was a blast."

"_Excuse me_-"

Excuse. Come on, Draco. Think of an excuse; you're usually a master at this. "-Did you see his face? It was hilarious, Granger. I did it to rile him up, nothing more, nothing less. Get over it."

Tell that to her still tingling hand.

"Fine." She ground out. "But do it again and I'll hex that hand off."

"Noted."

While they went back to their work, one thought remained in Draco's mind.

_It really wasn't anything more. Right? _

He mentally slapped himself.

_Hell fucking right. Take your own advice, Draco. _

'Get over it.'


	8. Drinking Helps

Author's Note: Chapter's quite short, but I'm still quite hesitant with any pure Dramione scenes, for some reason. Maybe it's because I think they haven't quite reached that stage yet, I don't know. But, like I've probably said before, I really don't want to make this a rushed story. It's definitely going to be one of those long-arse chapter stories. :)

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 4,402.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out? Also alcohol use.

Chapter: (8) Drinking Helps.

_Questions:_

**Please don't use the f-word as often as you've been using it (or at all). - I'd rather leave this anonymous. **_  
_Right, so not a question, but I thought I should make something clear so I don't get other comments about this.  
The language used in this story is what I think is 'realistic', and 'common' for seventeen-eighteen year old British teenagers. As I live in England, I would know. Not just that, but the use of the 'f-word' is to convey the character, as you have Draco, Blaise and Theo constantly using it, but Hermione only using it when she's really angry, or another distinct emotion.  
I have post warnings for each chapter, as you can see above. They're not just for you guys to ignore. It's there for a reason. It's rated M for a reason. Honestly, I want to please all my readers, but I really have no intention of changing the use of swear words in this story. I'm sorry if the words offend you.  
That is all.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

Hermione sighed for the upteenth time that day. She couldn't handle the 'nice teacher' role any longer. "No, Harry. That's wrong, _again._ Correct it."

The Potter groaned. "But, 'Mione." His voice was of a whiny child, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. "That's the fifth time I've tried it."

"Why do we need Arithmacy, anyway?" Ron piped in, staring at his textbook in utter uncomprehension. "It's practically jiberish."

Now, when talking about Arithmacy with Hermione Granger, one does not - in any circumstances - do the following. (a) Insult one of her favourite subjects or (b) underestimate her expertise in that particular field, and finally (c) point out the obvious lack of fun in her life.

So, when her reply was clipped and sarcastic; Harry was not surprised. "Well, Ronald. It takes a certain amount of brain cells to appreciate such an intuitive subject."

Ron stared at her with wide eyes for a few moments, as Harry ran his palms down his face, slightly glad for his break in unwanted-tutoring. The redhead sputtered for an apology. "I'm sorry, Mione. It's just that this is so boring. Do you ever do anything fun? Anything wild?"

"Excuse me, Ronald, but this isn't a place for fun. It's school. And, I can let loose. I'm not the prude you make me out to be."

"I've known you seven years, and you tell me you're not the goody-two-shoes I know you are?" Ron laughed, only understanding his mistake when she sent a death glare his way. He choked on his saliva, punching his chest to calm himself down and breath properly.

"Bloody 'ell Ron." Harry groaned, trying to intervene in the soon to be argument.

She seethed. "Well, guess what, Ron? You're not the funny, handsome, charming boy _you_ think _you_ are. Far from it, actually." She sighed. "I'm not going to argue with you. Just get back to work, alright?"

Their heads were already buried into their books, their nostrils filled with the smell of crisp paper and ink.

When her eyes travelled along the walls, and landed on the clock ticking away by the far side; Hermione gasped, collected her books and got up. "Oh, Gosh! The library's going to be closed in a few minutes-! I have to go _right now." _

"But, Hermione-!" Harry called after her, still having not learnt the assignment he was meant to give in the next day.

"I'll see you two later." She called back, not turning around to wave, from the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Walking through the Hogwarts corridors, Hermione thought about her rash, baseless feelings.

She was irritated.

She was upset.

She was annoyed.

She was easily-angered.

She was _just not in the bloody mood. _

And it was all because of _him. _

Him and his stupid lies about Mudbloods not being Mudbloods. His ridiculous idea of a truce between sworn enemies, which she crazily accepted. Him and his damn Quidditch game, his ability to convince her to do something she'd never even thought of doing. His fucking 'Butterbeer Clause' and those stories, _oh God those bloody stories_, that sounded so annoyingly honest and sincere. His lack of hatred for her, his complete disregard to her personal space and Library time. His audacity to touch her and make her_ feel_ something;_ a lot of things._ And his fucking nerve to actually act like he was_ jealous_ - or whatever, - when he had no fucking right to. None.

And it irked her.

He couldn't just come into her life, after - what? - six years of torturing her and make her feel so sodding confused about her feelings.

She didn't even realise when her walking became harsh stomping.

He couldn't, alright?

He _just_ _couldn't. _

_But he did. _

* * *

"Drakie Waaakiee."

Draco screwed his eyes shut, hoping if he thought hard enough, he'd become invisible to the stalking pug-face. Sometimes, just a handful of times, he wished he could get his hands on Potter's ingenious Invisibilty Cloak. That's right. He wanted to be like bloody lightning-bolt, scar-face pothead. That's the extent Parkinson's annoyance drove him to.

Trying not to make move, a single flutter of his eyelashes or finger shudder at her high pitched voice; he stood still, in the corner of the Slytherin Common Room; - emerged in shadows, - so very close, yet so painfully far from the door to his freedom.

She spun around the room, eyes searching. "Drakie? Oooh," She smiled, and he felt sick. "Playing cat and mouse, are we? That's fine. I _love_ games." Listening to her try to be seductive, sultry and sensual; made him want to grab the wand sitting on the desk by his right side, and stab himself with it.

It was his opening, when she turned the other way, still looking out for even a glimpse of platinum blond hair. He made a bee line straight out the door, up the stairs and into the main corridoor. He was free, and was about to punch the air in victory, when something bumped into him.

"Oof!"

"Can't you watch where you're going, you sodding -" He pulled back from the collision and saw the angry Gryffindor glaring at him. He smirked instantly. "Granger."

"What, you bloody dolt?" She huffed, clutching her book to her chest. She couldn't take this confrontation, not after cursing him ruthlessly in her mind for the last two minutes.

"If you wanted me so bad, all you should've done is tell me." He winked. Actually, winked. "I would've been happy to oblige your requests, however kink-"

"Get lost, Malfoy." She sighed, the stress of her final year finally getting through her bushy mane. All she wanted to do, was get out of this place, out into the fresh air where she could _breathe_ and_ think_ and not feel so helpless.

"No, I don't think I will." He smirked, crossing his arms. He looked at her in that way, with one eyebrow lightly raised condescendingly, challenging her with his eyes. And he knew, definitely, that Hermione was never one to back down. "What're you going to do about it?"

"I'm_ going to_, bloody -!" She started instantly, not even thinking twice about the threat she was going to utter. It was a defense mechanism, a reaction she and everyone around her, had grown accustomed to.

"Draaakie!"

Dear Lord.

"Oh, shit." After instinctively grabbing Hermione's wrist and pulling her away, despite her loud protests. Before she knew it, she was behind a long curtain, against the wall, pressed up against Draco Malfoy.

When she spoke next, she whispered, wrenching her arm from his grip. Those tingles were not appreciated. "And what in the world do you think you're doing? I swear to God, Malfoy, if you think you're getting away with-"

"- Merlin, Granger. Can't you keep your mouth shut for a goddamn second?" He whispered back, bracing his hands on either side of her, and listening out for his crazy stalker.

She huffed. "No."

He bit the inside of his cheek. She was...Dear God, he was actually thinking this, in all reality. She was..._adorable. _

"Drakie, please. _I want you_."

Hermione laughed, burst into it in fact. Draco rolled his eyes, and covered her mouth with his hand, trying to be as quiet as possible. Her laughter stopped, and she stared into his eyes, mesmerised and barely breathing.

"Malmmmphwuharyu-" She started again, her words muffled and lost with his hand barrier.

"Shhh." He whispered softly, listening out.

Now, this, was exactly what she was thinking about. He touched like it was natural, and not at all unusual and irritatingly affectionate. She couldn't bring herself to hate it, per say. But she definitely hated herself for not hating it.

His hand was soft, though slightly rough, as she'd expected - if she spent her time expecting, that is - though the roughness was an imperfection she appreciated. He wasn't all perfect, but she knew that already. She knew too much about him already. More than most, that was for sure.

"I know you're here, Drakie Poo. I know you want me too."

"Merlin." He muttered, staying completely still.

Hermione, having enough of not being able to breath due to his effective touching, pulled his hand away by slipping her hands up the small gap between their bodies, and yanking the surprisingly soft hand away.

"You're an idiot." She whispered, scowling, but realising that even she didn't want to be annoyed by Parkinson right now.

He merely smirked. Two seconds later, footsteps could be heard getting closer.

They tensed up, expecting Pansy to pull the curtain open any moment, leaving them in the worst, most compromising position.

Then the footsteps become softer, quieter, farther away.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief, lowering his head, which just incidently happened to press against Hermione's forehead, leaving them in an almost intimate position.

Only when he started enjoying his peace, was when Hermione pushed him away with force. "You pervert! I can't believe you just did that-"

"- Don't act as if you didn't enjoy it." He moved back to his previous position, behind the curtain.

"That's rich. Coming from you."

"I really hope you know where you're going with this, because then it'll make one of us."

"You think you're so smart, don't you?"

"As a matter of fact, _yes, I fucking_-"

"-Drakie, is that you?" Pansy's hopeful voice sounded through the corridor.

He groaned. Then suddenly thought of something, and smirked deviously. Draco looked at her in a very weird way. She stared at him confusedly. "I'll see you later, Granger."

"Wait,_ what_-?!" And suddenly, she was pushed out into the hall, to be faced with a horny Pansy Parkinson and lack of curtain shielding.

"Mudblood." Pansy sneered, walking towards her with crossed arms and a high chin. "What are the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

Draco scoffed behind the curtain.

Hermione, who was over the shock of what just happened, scowled. "Standing."

He smirked into the scratchy fabric.

"Just get out of my face, Mudblood."

Malfoy thought that was the end of it, that Granger was going to walk away and not look back. But that's not what happened. For the upteenth time, Hermione Granger surprised him.

She scoffed at the dark haired witch, stuffed her book into her satchel - as if it was so much more important than talking to her,- and then replied with venom. "And what makes you think I'd listen to you?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "You can't talk to me like that, you-"

"-Actually, Pug Face. I can."

"I swear to Salazar, bitch, if you don't leave me to-"

"-To what? Chase Malfoy, who is so obviously hiding?"

Good point, that. Draco smirked into the darkness; before tilting his head and moving the curtain slightly out of the way so he could see the scene with his own eyes. The material was thick and long enough to keep him hidden. His eyes drifted towards the Gryffindor, impressed.

"I'm not chasing. We're playing. You wouldn't know, you virgin prude."

There it was. The 'prude' card.

Fine. Two could play dirty.

"Better a virgin than a whore."

Ooh, things were getting catty. Meow.

"I am_ not_ a whore."

Granger laughed a little, mockingly - almost like a Slytherin. Draco stared wide eyed at the dark inner fabric of the large curtains. He was practically witnessing Granger out-wit a Slytherin.

It was a fucking turn-on.

"You're going to pay for that, Mudblood." She said, taking one more long step, and lifting her hand to slap the Gryffindor. Hermione didn't even flinch, and lifted her hand to grab the other girl's arm.

She glared, but remained calm. "I'm sure I will." She told her tauntingly, her last nerve getting stomped on. She had had just about enough of these Slytherins, and really needed to get to her quiet place. She dropped Pansy's hand, and turned. "Be sure to surprise me with it, Pansy."

Draco grinned, and made a move to continue hiding until the coast was clear.

But then he saw his fellow House mate pull something out of her robes through the corner of his eye.

She pointed the wand quite shakily at the Gryffindor walking away, only a few steps away still, and hissed. "_Stupefy_."

"_Finite Incantatum_." Draco said, quite bored, as he blocked the way swiftly, twirling his wand around his fingers after he was done.

Pansy stared at him in shock. Hermione had heard, and turned quickly to see their stare off.

Parkinson gaped, stumbling over herself to get closer to him. "Drakie, what are you doing here?" She tried to smile.

"Really, Parkinson?" He drawled sarcastically. "Where did you learn such an advanced spell?"

She laughed a little, nervous. "It was just to shut up the Mudblood. But who cares about her? I've been looking for you everywhere." She draped a hand on his shoulder, which he looked down at in distaste.

"Malfoy, you did not just act like you're my Knight in fucking Armour." Hermione told him seriously, turning on him when she approached them.

He absently shrugged off Pansy's grip, his amused gaze on Hermione. "I do believe it's Knight in Shining Armour, Granger."

"I don't care." She seethed, her eyebrows furrowed, and arms crossed over her chest.

"Hey! Don't talk to my baby like that!" Pansy interrupted, but neither of them paid her any notice.

"You're right. Fucking Armour sounds so much better." He told her.

She glared, as hard as she could.

He raised an eyebrow, slipping his wand back into his pocket as he looked at her confusedly. "I just saved you from a knock out spell, and I get a lecture? And you girls wonder why chivalry's dead."

"I don't need saving. I can take care of myself, thank you very much." She yelled at him.

"Oh, yeah. Because you were so taking care of yourself, almost getting knocked out from behind." He yelled back, incredulous, before spinning on his heel, dodging Parkinson and walking in the opposite direction from the library. Hermione looked from the entrance to the Library to Pansy to Draco's retreating form. She decided that she wasn't quite done lecturing him as yet.

Hermione followed after him, hot on his heels. "I was fine until you came along, hiding from Pansy. What, did you get tired of fucking her?"

"Yes, in fact, I did."

There was a bitter taste in her mouth. "Well."

He turned to look at her, smirking. "What? Too nasty of a thought in that innocent head of yours?"

And that pushed her completely off the edge. She completely freaked out, shouted at him mindlessly, poked him in the chest numerously and stormed off towards the library with her cheeks blazing and hands shaking.

* * *

_Knock. Knock. _

"What the he-" Blaise started groggily.

"Shhh." Theo hushed harshly, swatting the air.

_Thud._

_Bang. Knock. Bang, thud. _

"Somebody open the fucking door." Draco tossed in his bed, deepening his face into his pillow. They replied with muffled winces. which mainly meant 'do it yourself'.

_Thud, thud-thud. _

Blaise picked up his pillow and threw it at Draco, hitting his head skillfully. "Who did you get pregnant _now_, Malfoy?"

Draco smirked into the pillow. "Your loony Ravenclaw, Zabini. Why?"

Blaise squinted at him. "Fuck off."

Theo sat up, intrigued. "What happened to She-weasel?"

"Old news." Draco replied, voice muffled into the two pillows he hand covering his head. "Who cares? It's just another bird he'll never get the balls to shag."

"I have balls!"

"Small balls." Theo clarified.

"You know nothing of my balls."

"For Merlin's sake, get a room." Draco muttered, hoping the intruder had walked off.

_THUD. THUD. BANG. _

"I'm gonna' kill him. I'm gonna' fucking kill him." Draco said to himself, throwing his covers aside and slowly making his way to the door, clad in only his loose, black trousers which hung low on his hips.

He opened the door swiftly, glaring already.

His eyes widened as he took sight of the extremely surprising scene in front of him.

Hermione swayed on her feet, hair mulled and cheeks flushed. She held a dark glass bottle in her left hand, practically stumbling over her feet and then giggling about it.

His eyes roamed all over her, trying to make sense of what the hell was happening. "Granger?"

She giggled in the most annoying way. "Hehe. It's Hermione, silly!"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then he looked out for anyone else in the Slytherin dungeons. Thankful that there was no one, he looked back at her. "Granger, what the sodding hell are you doing here?" He intended on hissing at her, or even whispering sharply, but his tone came out calm and tired.

She looked at him seriously a moment, with her lips pouted - which made it much less serious.

"Are you-you drunk?" He said slowly, in complete disbelief.

She didn't reply, but she definitely looked like a child who had just gotten caught sneaking their hands into the cookie jar before dinner.

"Well, are you?" He urged, trying not to snap.

"Hermwionee." She stomped her foot, the liquid in the bottle splashing about at the sudden sharp movement. "Say it."

"_Salazar_." He muttered, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He screwed his eyes shut for a millisecond before giving in. "Fine, Hermione."

She smiled, cuter than ever. He rolled his eyes, grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his room. When he kicked the door shut behind her, he noticed that there was suddenly light in his dorm room.

"Granger?" Blaise acknowledged, utterly shocked.

Theo's eyes went from Hermione to Draco, two or three times. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"You dream about me a lot, huh, Knot?" Draco asked him, before dragging her to the center of the room. He tried to pry the bottle from her clutching fingers. "Granger, give me the bottle."

"No."

"I'm not kidding, Granger. Give it up." He said again, pulling the bottle again. The liquid swished about, the only sound in the room.

"This is fucking brilliant." Theo muttered, watching in awe.

"Never thought I'd see the day." Blaise nodded numbly.

"Now, that!" She started, spinning around to face the Italian. She was unbalanced, and practically struggling to stand still. "Is exactly why I did this."

Blaise looked taken aback. Unsure on what to do, he took a shot in the dark. "I'm...sorry?"

"Oh, whatever." She rolled her eyes and took a few steps past Draco. "Hermione Granger the prude, Hermione Granger the goody-two-shoes. Hermione Granger, the teacher kiss-arse." She mulled, trying to put on a different voice as she walked around Malfoy. She looked at the three gaping boys. "Well, guess what? I can have fun, I can let loose! I am not predictable, not boring. Why wont you just believe it?"

Draco had started damage control. He'd cast a silencing charm on their room so no other dormitories could hear the drunk Gyrffindor. He looked at her, trying to hide his amusement, but failing miserably. "You do realise that you're piss-drunk, right?"

"I'm not stupid." She glared at him unsteadily.

"But you are a lightweight." He told her, approaching slowly. "And apparently just as annoying when you're not sober." He reached her, looking down at her flushed self with a light smirk. "Now give me the bottle, and tell me where the hell you found it."

She looked like she was going to argue, but shrugged a little and passed him the bottle without anymore resistance. She walked back and sat herself down onto Draco's bed, her fingers playing with the soft covers strewn across it.

"Oh, Draco, you're no fun." Blaise cooed.

"Honestly. When did you become the 'mature voice of reason'?"

"_Hermione Granger the fuddy-duddy. Hermione Granger the virgin. Hermione Granger the prig_."

Draco tipped his head back and sighed loudly. Why did he have to deal with this? He wasn't the type of guy to hold a girl's hair back while she puked. That just wasn't him. And was never going to be, he decided.

He gathered his thoughts and ran a hand through his hair. When he looked at her again, she was kicking her legs in the air, squealing with delight. Draco brought the bottle to his mouth and took a sip. Firewhiskey. Licking his lips after pulling the bottle away, he wondered where in the world Hermione Granger would find such a drink.

"Where'd you get this?" He asked her, not as gently as he should have. She laughed, and patted the bed.

He shook his head. "No."

"Come here and I'll tell you." She bartered.

Draco rolled his eyes, then turned on his friends. "Out."

"What?"

"Get out." He elaborated, then realised he had to say the damned word, or at least grit it out . "_Please_." He watched as they grunted, and slowly got out of their beds.

"Can we atleast have the-" Blaise started, looking helpless.

Malfoy chucked the bottle at him before he got to finish. "Knock yourselves out."

The door shut almost quietly behind them.

* * *

"Budge up." Draco told her, to which she replied by scooting over the foot of the bed just a little, and using her legs to push herself further onto the bed.

He sat, tired but awake, and ran a hand through his hair. "Go on."

"Not telling." She giggled.

"Come on, Granger. You're killing me here." In more ways than one, he thought to himself as he said it.

He sat quite close to her, her bare knee touching his silk-covered one. She was still in her uniform, though it was scruffy. Her white shirt had its sleeves rolled up to her elbow, her Gryffindor tie loose and daring him to pull it off. She wore her skirt, and was still warming herself with her long white socks. But when she sat, Merlin, her skirt rode up slightly, revealing bare skin Draco's fingers itched with the need to get their hands on.

She was a girl, in the end. And a girl looking like this, with her coffee brown curls flowing past her shoulders slightly - out of its usual ponytail, - her cheeks tinted, whether it was due to the alcohol or the charge of the room with a shirtless Malfoy - he didn't care, all he saw was that girl. That girl who had him wanting to suck on those parted, swollen lips, and drink every drop of that Firewhiskey she had to offer.

And he wasn't surprised of these thoughts, oh Lord no.

She was, in fact, just a girl. Not Granger, not now. It was just a girl who was drunk for the first and probably last time in her life, who looked more than remotely attractive to him.

Hermione Granger, the know-it-all bookworm wasn't there. So technically, thinking such things wouldn't get him in trouble. Not really.

"Why don't you ever call me Hermione? It _is_ my name."

He didn't know what to say to that. So he turned it around on the drunk girl. "If we're exchanging first names, I'd want to know why you don't call me Draco."

She looked like she realized something incredibly important but simple. "You're right." She smiled. "Dray-co. I like it. It sounds..." She looked up, racking her fogged up brain for the right word. "..."

God, she was hot when she was intoxicated.

He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. In any other situation, with any other girl, he'd have screwed her twice, and sent her on her way. Draco was the kind of guy to have probably taken advantage, just a little, of a drunk girl in his bedroom past midnight.

But the thought of doing that to Granger, made his chest tighten with something along the lines of guilt. "Look, Gra-"

"Nuh-uh-uh."

"-Hermione, for fuck's sake. Hermione." He stressed, rubbing his eyelids slowly. "Look. You're drunk. And you need to go to bed before you do something stupid. Or stupider than coming here."

She looked at him a moment. "I don't care."

"Excuse me?" He wasn't used to hearing that from the most work/school obsessed witch in the whole of Hogwarts.

"I don't care what happens, alright?" She snapped, then turned on the bed, tucking her legs under her and facing him expectantly.

He looked at her, wondering whether or not he should put on a shirt.

He didn't like this situation one bit. The back of his mind kept nagging him, urging him to make a move, do something for Merlin's sake. That part was driven by the need to win the bet. But something stopped him. He didn't have that thing everybody else supposedly did. What was it called, a conscience? Right, that.

He was sure he lacked a conscience - whatever the heck that was, - but he couldn't bring himself to say anything except, "You should get going."

He hated the halfheartedness in his voice.

"I'm not here by accident." She told him, and he had a feeling she'd heard the lack of force in his order too. She looked at him, trying to look determined. "Don't be the laudable guy, Malfoy. Not now."

His lips twitched. "Laudable? Only you could use that word whilst being drunk. "

Her serious face crumbled, and was replaced by a look the mixture of embarrassment and shyness.

She looked adorable, for the second time that day. He blinked to come back to his senses, but the image remained the same. She was fucking adorable. He cleared his throat, mostly for himself to be rid of those traitorous thoughts.

"Let's go to sleep." He nodded slowly, trying to speak some sense into her before he did something _she'd_ regret.

"I don't want to." She said, though her voice was tired and her eyes drooped a little.

"You've broken enough rules tonight. You're a real maverick. Now, sleep."

"I'm not a goody-two-shoes?"

He smirked, taking advantage of the situation to curl a lock of her hair around his finger. "Nah."

She smiled. "Yay." Then, she crawled under Draco's covers, pulled them up to her shoulders and sank her head into his pillow. "G'night, Draco." She murmured almost incoherently.

He looked at her, curling up in his covers, as if she belonged there and had done it too many time to count.

Draco smiled when her breaths evened out, and she started snoring ever so faintly. "_Night_."

* * *

- Already started next chapter. Oh, yes. That's right.


	9. I Dare

Author's Note: Right, so here's a new revelation; I want to write - and subsequently do it well, - after reading a good Dramione story. Now, this could be a one-shot, multi-chapter, whatever. But it helps, inspiration I guess. So, I request to you readers, to get the best out of me, will you please recommend some Dramione fics. Now this will be slightly challenging, as I've read many, many, many, _many _of them. Try to give me some that aren't in my favourite's list, though I don't expect you to go scrolling down the 70+ I have there. Just some fics that aren't known to many, some that are really awesome. Drama, FLUFF, Humour. Anything, really. Alright, I'm done.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 4, 396.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (9) I Dare.

Questions:

**Will Draco get jealous again? - Pinky Prattle & Katarin Kishika. **  
The Dean Incident, was just a starter. It was nothing, I don't even think it was jealousy, really. It was a little taste of Draco's evolving feelings, but don't worry, I love reading and writing about jealousy. So there will definitely be more. Not gonna' say any more - probably because I haven't even thought that far ahead, but yeah.

Side note: _The Fault in Our Stars_, by John Green - Ruined my life in the best way possible. If you haven't read it, I'm doing you a favour by recommending it. It will change everything. You will love and hate him (and possible me) forever. And ever. ...Uh, I don't own TFIOS, by the way. Just keeping clear of lawsuits here.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

She would have a splitting headache, he knew as much.

He'd had the occasional Firewhiskey, in times of sheer emptiness, sometimes at the Malfoy 'parties', or just for the sake of it. It was a bitter drink, and like the name hinted at, it burned its way down your throat. But, it was helpful. In the way alcohol managed to get you to _forget_ and_ live_ and _be free_; - that kind of helpful.

For Hermione Granger to almost empty a dodgy looking bottle filled with such an effective drink, something had to be seriously wrong. When he figured out that it was the way people saw her, he almost laughed. Why did she care what people thought? People were stupid, people were wrong all the time. She should've known that, being the smartest witch of her damn generation.

Draco mulled over this as he sat on one of the wooden chairs in his room which he pulled beside the bed, so he could rest his long legs on the springy mattress. He stared at his feet placed atop the other, his hands absently playing with his Snitch paperweight. His eyes drifted up the figure entangled in his sheets, clinging to them as if their life depended on it. When his gaze landed on her face, turned upwards to face the ceiling, he almost sighed.

Her uncontrollable curls splayed all around her head, painting the plain white pillow it rested on with thick squiggles of brown. She had this way of snoring when she took a breath through her nose and let it out softly in a light puff through her mouth. The sound was more than bearable, and almost too quiet. One of her hands lay beside her head, and her fingertips would twitch slightly every so often.

He had watched as she nestled into his bed, under the covers. She'd fallen asleep in an instant, and he couldn't blame her. He kept his bed comfortable, with all the expensive sheets and linings, and not to mention the foam he had sent in from the Manor. When Blaise and Theo had come back in, Firewhiskey bottle completely drained, he was worried - for some utterly absurd reason - that they would wake her. But obviously, they weren't as Lightweights as Granger over here, so they were calm and sober. Theo raised an eyebrow at the girl in his bed, as it wasn't normal for there to be one actually sleeping there. In fact, now that he thought about it, he didn't fuck any of the girls he had on his bed. His bed was his sacred place. The blond had just shrugged in reply, ignoring the suggestive looks Blaise was giving him.

He decided that he wasn't going to sleep there - she'd hex his balls off-, before he made his way to Crabbe and Goyle's room, ordering one of them to share with the other (which they did without a second thought.) The utter compliance was slightly frightening to Draco, but, hey, he wasn't complaining. A few cleaning spells later, he slept a handful of hours in their dorm. Then bright and early, - he was a renown early riser - Draco had sneakily took a seat beside his bed.

From his left, he heard the movement of sheets and tired groaning. Then, Blaise's groggy voice cut into the peaceful silence. "Merlin's Beard, those penguins were _dancing_ like-"

Draco turned his head sharply in the Italians direction, sending a clear 'shut up or I'll make you' look at him. The blond blinked at him, then briefly glanced at Granger, informing him of her slumber.

"Oh." He muttered, then rubbed his eyes and looked at Draco's bed again. "_Oh, shit._"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned back to the sleeping Gryffindor. She stirred a little at Blaise's voice, and Draco cringed. For some reason, he didn't want to wake her up. "Nice going, Zabini." He muttered under his breath, before composing himself to lean back into his uncomfortable seat and act indifferent.

She moved in her comfortable looking position, and soon enough, her eyes fluttered open. "Mmghh." She looked around the room for a few calm moments, before jumping up to a sitting position.

Her eyes, as well as her hair, was wild when she looked at him. "This isn't my room."

Draco smirked. "No, no it's not."

"Why am I not in my room, Malfoy?" Her voice became higher, tighter as if someone had a choke hold on her throat tubes.

"You tell me."

Hermione started hyperventilating, then suddenly clutched the sheets and pulled them up before setting them back down. She was making sure that she wasn't naked. He almost laughed. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, Godric! How did you get me here? Did you drug me? Curse me? Y-you, what d-did you do to-" She stopped and touched her head tentatively.

He thought about this for a moment. What to do? Tell her the truth? Play with her feelings just because he was slightly upset with himself for not at least kissing her? "Nothing you didn't want me to."

He decided to do the second thing. If that's what she expected of him, why not be that guy?

She looked purely outraged. "You-you-you-" Her head killed. "Merlin's bathrobe, my _head_-"

He set the snitch down.

"You pervert. You are a sick, twisted person, Draco Malfoy. I can't believe you could advantage of me like that. I can't believe-" She stopped mid sentence again, groaning and rubbing her head with her palm.

Draco reached over to the table and grabbed a small bottle full of liquid he'd set on it not long ago. He tossed it on the sheets in front of her, the cork keeping the liquid from escaping.

"Drink it." He told her. "It's for your headache."

She looked at him suspiciously before realizing that it was all she had right now. She drank down the whole bottle, before setting it back on the covers. She just noticed Blaise sitting up in his bead, grinning like a fool when she yelped and pulled the sheets up to her neck, as if she wasn't wearing her shirt underneath.

Blaise pulled his blanket over his head.

Hermione screwed her eyes shut, wishing it would all go away. She searched her brain for the memories of last night. All she found was a worse headache and a fuzzy moment so vague she wondered if it even happened.

_"Hermwionee." She stomped her foot, the liquid in the bottle splashing about at the sudden sharp movement. "Say it."_

_"Salazar." He muttered, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He screwed his eyes shut for a millisecond before giving in. "Fine, Hermione."_

_He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his room._

Her eyes snapped open, and she leaped out of the bed, glad to be fully dressed. She looked at the bed as if it would bite her, noting her deep sleep in it mentally. It was warm, soft, and smelled of Malfoy - which really, really wasn't a bad smell.

It was the smell of new books, soap and mint.

And she wanted to drown herself in it.

She turned to the amused Malfoy. "You are a _sick bastard_."

His lips pursed into a straight line. "That's not what you said last night."

"I-I-no, God, no." She tried to breath, taking in a shaky one with barely enough oxygen entering her lungs. Her eyes blinked on their own account, trying her very best not let her tears spill. They were welled up, making her eyes shiny and reflective of the light from the ceiling. She looked at him, still leaning back into his incredibly uncomfortable chair, and he could see pure hatred mixed with even the tiniest speck of fear behind the shiny wall of water. "You know what, you son of a bitch?"

He didn't know what. So he shook his head, plastering the most fake sardonic smirk he could muster. It only riled her up more, which was actually his intention.

She was seething. "I started to fucking like you!" She yelled at him, probably waking Theo up if he wasn't just pretending in the first place. "I thought you'd changed, but God, was I wrong. _Was_, I wrong?"

He stopped the words from spilling. Draco shrugged indifferently.

She had two hands on her head, and was involuntarily pacing. "So what? You got me drunk, brought me to your room and took advantage of me? _Was that it_?"

"You're getting warmer." It was his coldest voice yet - ironically - and he would've patted his back for it any other day.

"Oh my God, you're enjoying this." She smiled, though there was no sign of emotion behind it except for pure hatred. "You deserve so much fucking more than hell, though I doubt you're in your happy place with your screwed up self and all. I probably can't even fathom my hatred for you right now, so I'm just going to do this."

She slapped him. Fucking bitch actually slapped him, as if she had the right. She'd punched him once, back in third year, and kneed him that time in Hogsmeade. Those were the only free shots she'd get, without getting something back. He jumped up, his cheek stinging.

"I swear to Merlin, bitch-"

"-Oh, don't you _dare_." She looked down right livid. "Come near me one more time, one more Goddamn time, and I'll kill you with my bare hands, you Death Eater bastard." Her voice cracked near the end, overwhelmed with emotion.

She slammed the door shut.

Draco stared at the door a good few minutes before collapsing onto his bed, which was now filled with her scent.

"Draco-" Blaise started.

"Don't." He ordered sternly, not caring that there was only a few hours left till breakfast, just wanting to drone everyone out and sleep.

There was silence after that.

* * *

Hermione refused to cry.

Draco could tell from across the breakfast hall, her eyes were shiny and tired, though they hadn't shed any more tears. Her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, as if she'd yanked it into that position. She didn't eat, and didn't speak, only kept rubbing her head.

She looked utterly hung over.

Draco looked away the moment she noticed him staring. And since he was an expert at lurking, he did it quickly and nonchalantly.

His gaze landed on his roommates staring at him.

"What?" It was chipped and sharp enough to cut through bone.

The two sitting opposite him shared a glance. "Uh, maybe you should talk to her."

"Maybe you should shut the hell up."

"She needs to know what you did."

He glared at them in turn. "Tell her what happened, and I'll end you."

Theo sighed. "Draco, you need to get over this self-pity thing. You didn't do anything wrong, and she should know that."

"What she should know, is to never come near me again." He grit out, before pushing his plate away and stalking out.

_Fuck you, Granger. I don't care what you think. You mean nothing to me. _

If only he sounded convincing.

* * *

_Left. _

_Right. _

_Look up. _

_Left. _

_Then right. _

_Chin high. _

_Left - no, right. No, left. Wait. What?_

_Oh God my head. _

Hermione's mind swam with clouded memories of the night before. She stopped in her tracks and braced her palm on the stone wall of the Hogwarts corridors. The cold from the stones spread through her hand, up her fingers and down her arm, cooling her hyper-active and heated body. She didn't want to think of it, she really didn't. She had an idea of what he'd done to her, and all she wanted was to get the hell away from him for life.

Her head felt as if a Hippogriff had spent all of the night playing hockey pockey on it.

_Hangover_, she realised helplessly. She'd never had one before today, but being the know-it-all she was, she had more than a clue of how it was affected you. She couldn't even remember anything from the previous day, dammit. Nothing. It was for the best, probably - not living out a nightmare again.

But the thing was, that she was actually starting to_ like_ him. Not even how she'd hoped, like her relationship with Harry and Ron. It was_ like_ - in that stupid girl way where your stomach did flips and cheeks heated whenever the bastard walked past or smiled hotly in your direction.

And then it came, the unwanted memory, sharper than the one before. She was staring at the irregular patterns on the wall when her mind chose to take her back in time.

_"I'm sorry, 'Mione. It's just that this is so boring. Do you ever do anything fun? Anything wild?" It was Ron. In their common room. _

_"Excuse me, Ronald, but this isn't a place for fun. It's school. And, I can let loose. I'm not the prude you make me out to be." Her words were sharp, offended. _

_"I've known you seven years, and you tell me you're not the goody-two-shoes I know you are?" Ron laughed, mockingly. _

And that was all she got from her inconvenient, irrelevant mind. It didn't help the puzzle she was trying to piece together from her memories. It was like a white piece on a puzzle image that was a cloud.

Then she realised something. There were two other witnesses to her horror, wasn't there? It was a sick thought in itself, but she needed to know what happened. She didn't hurt anywhere, but wasn't over the moon either. She needed to know. So she waited, and waited, and waited until she got one of them alone.

* * *

"Zabini!"

He turned around, halfway down the hall. "Granger."

She made her way to him, keeping her chin high and herself from crumbling. Somehow, she liked the nickname more when Malfoy said it. Not that it meant anything. "I need to know what happened."

He looked around desperately. "I can't tell you that."

"Excuse me?" She took out her wand and pointed it at him. "You will tell me, because I have a right to know."

"I can't, Granger." He turned and stepped away from her.

"You were there! Stop, just-just stop lieing okay? I know you know. _I fucking know it_!" She yelled again, desperate and showing it.

He hesitated. "I'm sorry."

There it was, a trigger. The memory pulled her into the past, twisting and warping her surroundings into some place familiar.

_"Never thought I'd see the day." Blaise nodded numbly._

_"Now, that!" She started, spinning around to face the Italian. She was unbalanced, and practically struggling to stand still. "Is exactly why I did this."_

_Blaise looked taken aback. Unsure on what to do, he took a shot in the dark. "I'm...sorry?" _

"Granger? Granger, you alright?" He muttered, looking at her as if she'd grown a second head.

She stared at him in disbelief. "I-I...did it to _myself_?"

He stared back, trying not to show his agreement.

"I was drunk, and don't you dare deny your presence because I know you were there, wasn't I?"

Blaise nodded slowly before glancing around the hall once more for Malfoy. He wasn't scared of the threat, not at all. It was the fact that Malfoy would be pissed, and pissed meant he was in for a hell of a time the remainder of the school year. So Blaise grabbed her wrist and pulled her to a secluded hallway.

"Who spiked my drink? Who force fed me alcohol-" She tore her arm away from his grip.

"No one."

"Excuse me?"

He rubbed his eyes. "Look, you came in, piss drunk and carrying a Firewhiskey bottle. You found it somewhere, I suppose. Though why a tosser would keep such a well aged drink lying around where you can find it, is beyond my understanding. You didn't say where you got it."

"What _did_ I say?"

"Something about being a prude _but not being a prude_ - was it? I don't know. You're asking the wrong Slytherin."

"I just need to know-"

"It's best if you remember." He admitted. "Just try to remember."

And she spent the rest of the day doing exactly that.

* * *

He didn't want to be found.

Based on what she knew about him, Hermione could figure out that Draco barely slept (that couldn't have been healthy) and spent most of his nights wandering about, leaving a trail of broken rules and regulations. The last few times she had seen him during the night, was in the Astronomy Tower. And, of course, his room. But other than that, she had no clue where he could be. So when she had already looked in the Tower; searched around the entrance to the Slytherin Dungeons before backing out of actually going in, and found absolutely no sign of his arrogant, 'I'm God's gift to all women' aura – she was lost.

Then came the hope that he was in the library. He wasn't, much to her disappointment and annoyance. She was already breaking a handful of rules actually looking for him at such an hour, which was quite a big deal for Hermione Granger. If she didn't find him even after going out of her way to, it would be incredibly vexing.

But that wasn't on Hermione's mind as she carefully walked down the ever-hearing, never-sleeping halls of Hogwarts, her fingers tracing patterns on the wall as she walked with her wand out in front of her. The _lumos_ she'd muttered to get her way around the school was barely audible, so the brightness of her wand's reflected this – a dim, soft light which was just enough for her to navigate.

It was her who was at fault; she knew that fact very well. Her body knew it too, apparently, as the guilt practically ate at her heart and buzzed around in her mind, not allowing her to sleep.

He obviously didn't want to be found, but that didn't stop her. In fact, it had the reverse effect.

So when she found him, laying under a tree by the pond, you could understand the relief and anticipation that washed over her.

The air was cold, windy even. She could hear the whistling of the wind, almost haunting, contrasted with the luminescent glow of the moon – which, to her, was beautiful. The trees rustled, leaves flew and the pond water reflected the moon and the stars, rippling ever so often.

He was out under a large slanted tree, with the branches and leaves swishing and rustling in the breeze, his left arm bent under his head. His eyes were closed, but Hermione had a feeling he wasn't sleeping.

This Gryffindor wasn't particularly used to apologising for being wrong, so she didn't how to go about it. Finally, she decided to lie down on the damp grass next to him, in her pyjamas and school robe. Her head turned towards him, she let her eyes wander across his pretending-to-sleep form.

He was wearing his uniform, which was neatly pressed and freshly washed. It just consisted of his button down Oxford, these dark trousers that left little to the imagination and a loose Slytherin tie. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his hair was blowing in the wind, over his eyes. Hermione had this sudden urge to brush the platinum blond strands away from his skin.

She didn't, though.

She wasn't stupid, after all. But she did – even though she had no reason to, knowing of his consciousness – jump when he spoke. His voice was low, smoky and annoyingly sexy to her.

"Laying so close to your rapist can be dangerous, Granger."

She sighed, understanding the emotions he felt underneath the crude comment. He wasn't angry with her, just with himself. Gathering all the courage she had, she turned on her side to face him, closer to him now than she was before. Her mouth was open, but nothing came out.

His eyes were still shut when he said. "That means _piss off,_ if you didn't understand."

She searched his face. "I understood."

"Then why the hell are you still here?"

"Because I'm sorry."

"I don't give _a fuck_ what you are. Leave me alone, before you regret it."

She knew he was angry, she knew it was her fault. Either way, all that came out was, "I'm not scared of you."

He sat up sharply, turning on her. "You should be."

Hermione swallowed a little, before pushing herself up with him. She spoke with sincerity and confidence. "I'm not."

He didn't say anything which was slight progression for Hermione. The smartest witch of her generation decided to carry on, take advantage of his silence. "I shouldn't have assumed. I shouldn't have said those God-awful things without knowing. I found it in the library, though. I don't know who hid it in the Ancient Runes section, probably some sixth years, but I-"

Having had absolutely enough of her blabbering, Draco grabbed her wrist, pulled her up to a standing position with him. But that wasn't all; he wrapped an arm around her small waist and dipped her over the lake, dangling but secure in his hold. Hermione's arms instantly wrapped around his neck, arching herself into him so she wouldn't fall in to the water. Draco tried to ignore the remarkable feeling of her chest against his, their arms practically around each other. She turned to look down at the reflective water, his nose brushing against her cheek almost affectionately. Turning her head slightly, she realised how close she was to him, yelped, and pulled back a little.

He couldn't help but smirk down at her, loosening his hold on her tauntingly. "I swear to Merlin, Granger, if you don't shut your damn trap now, _I will drop you_."

She pulled herself back up to him, bringing their faces inches apart and locking her arms around him. "Don't you dare."

His eyes flicked south, to her parted, gasping lips before back up into her brown orbs. "You don't think I'd dare?"

Hermione hesitated, knowing he would. Her skin was tingling, even with the layers of clothing separating them. "I'll shut up, just don't do this." It was probably freezing, the water. She couldn't help but feel the excitement, anticipation in the back of her mind of being so close to him, so close to danger.

He lowered his lips to her ear, brushing them as he spoke, sparking her nerves. She squeezed her eyes, waiting for something, anything to happen. "_I dare_."

And she was falling into the water, arms flailing, screaming loudly. When she hit it, it went everywhere, engulfing her into the water and then pushing her back out. She tried to breath, tried to reach the surface and stay there, but it just kept pulling her back into a cold darkness.

Draco burst into laughter, the hilarity of her splashing about amusing him. She was cute when she couldn't swim.

_Wait. Couldn't swim. _

Oh, fuck.

Quicker than ever, he kicked off his shoes and dived in after her. She wasn't drowning quite yet, so it was easy for him to reach her and pull her into his arms. She clutched onto him for dear life, literally. He swam them both to the edge, a certain calm overpowering him when he felt her wrap herself around him. .He couldn't think about anything other than saving her. Saving_ her. _When he found himself staring into her eyes and to have her glaring back, he sighed. Draco propped her up onto the edge, and she choked and coughed a little before staggering away and putting a good distance between her and the water. He made sure she was safe and breathing, before something in his chest expanded, finally letting him push himself onto shore.

He took a moment to catch his breath, then sat up. "For Merlin's sake, Granger. You could have at least told me you couldn't swim."

She glared harder, cheeks now flushed and hair now longer and straighter with wetness. She crawled over to him, and he expected it to be a speech about how much she loved him now that he saved her life.

But this was Hermione. And she barely did anything he expected. She started hitting his chest with fisted hands.

"Malfoy, I'm going to kill you!" She yelled, hitting him quite violently. He let her enjoy it, knowing that he practically dropped her into her doom.

Around the fifth or seventh painful hit, he grabbed her slippery hands and thought about apologising. That would be incredibly strange for him, so he decided against it. Instead, he smirked a little. "I think I'm the one with the insight on how to kill, right now."

She looked up at him, their faces closer than she'd intended. Her breathing became ragged all of a sudden, and she sharply stood up, impatiently waiting for him to follow. When he did, he muttered a drying charm on himself, and was about to do it for to see that she'd already done it. Obviously.

Hermione stomped up to him, jabbing a finger in his chest. They were away from the pond, near the shadows of the trees. More specifically, they were almost against the tree Draco was lying under not too long ago. "You utter tosser. I can't believe you _actually_ dropped me." Her cheeks were red, and her hair - now dry,- was messy and incredibly alluring to his fingers.

Draco took a deep breath, reminding himself of his calming procedure. Count to ten, slowly, and the anger will go _poof_. Hopefully.

_One. Two. Three. _

She continued raving. "I came here to apologise for the things I said, and you almost kill me? You are so lucky I don't have my wand on me right now, or I would hex you into oblivion."

_Four. Five. Si-_

"Don't you have something to say? Perhaps, oh I don't know, '_I'm sorry for almost killing you_'?"

_Screw it,_ he decided, taking a few steps towards her, completely invading her personal space.

When he spoke, his voice was firm and deadly. "Granger."

She huffed, her arms crossed. "What?"

"_Shut up._" He watched her face become irritated all over again, and that's when he kissed her.

* * *

Don't kill me, please. Review.


	10. Winning and Losing

Author's Note: Now, I don't know about you guys, but I absolutely hate it when an fanfic author leaves a chapter as a kiss-cliffhanger and then introduces the next chapter with useless information and thoughts with no relation to the event at hand. But, I realised why they do it. I kinda' had to. To prove the importance of it. Sorry in advance.

Right, so I've been getting some requests to include more of the other characters, and I completely agree. I'll try my best, not this chapter, but the next. I promise it'll have a lot of the other character's input.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 2, 422. _(Short, but I think it's worth it. Or not.)_

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (10) Winning and Losing.

Questions:

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had kissed a lot of girls in his lifetime.

Blondes, brunettes, red-heads and a few gingers. Most of them were sluts, or just desperate for his attention, most of them part of his fan club - though internally, everyone was a part of his fan club -, none of them Hufflepuff (ick), and all of them smoking hot.

But none of them - not one - made him feel like-..like.._this_. Whatever the fuck _this _was.

They were alright kissers, most of the time, though some tended to shove their tongues down his throat. He didn't mind, it wasn't as if he'd have to do it after he'd slept with them. He'd forced his eyes shut, so they wouldn't get all emotional and shit. And then there were the compliments, sweet nothings and maybe fake emotions whispered into their ears. But he never hurt them, not really. He wouldn't rape them, force them to do it, they were more than willing. And they knew what they were getting into - even the stupid ones -, that it was nothing but a one night thing.

But right now, _God_, right now all of that had gone to shit.

When he'd grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against him, before bringing his lips down onto hers, the intention was: to scare her, shut her up, pull away - probably wipe his mouth - and walk away like a pompous arse. But all out that went out the window the moment he felt the remarkable feeling of her feather-soft, moist lips against his.

The contact had sent a strange mixture of warmth and chills down his spine. It was new, he wasn't used to it and he wished he _never_ got used to it. He wanted to do it whenever he wanted to, in front of whoever the hell was present. His eyes had closed on contact, but this time, it was because he wanted to. He wanted to drone out all the other senses; sight, smell, whatever, and just feel _Her_.

Hermione yelped, her eyelids closing before their lips even met. It was as if her nerves had been electrocuted, sparks jolting through he being. She felt it all the way down to her toes.

She couldn't take it. Couldn't take that she was kissing Draco Malfoy and her body was enjoying it immensely. Her hands went up to his chest, intending on pushing him away and making a run for it, but when her palms felt the smooth, firm muscle underneath, they fell weak, merely keeping themselves on his torso.

She pulled away with all the strength she had, still in his embrace, gasping. "Malfoy-"

He wasn't listening, only leaning down towards the addictive taste which was Her. "Stop talking, Granger."

He applied his lips to hers once again.

_Godric. _

It was a horrid to have uttered - even mentally - the name of Gryffindor's founder, being a loud-and-proud Slytherin. But at this moment, he couldn't care less. He didn't care which God or powerful wizard he silently thanked, as long as he could continue doing this.

He needed more. He needed to taste her, all of her. So, when his fingers skimmed up and down her arms, causing her to shudder, he pressed his lips into hers even more, coaxing her mouth open. She gasped at his forwardness, a sound that set aflame his want. He growled, deep in his throat, slipping his tongue past her lips at the opportunity.

Hermione's mind reeled. _Don't do this. What are you doing? Stop. STOP._ But she just couldn't bring herself to listen to logic at the moment.

Instead; wanting to give in to basic instinct, wanting to forget all the rules and all that was expected of her, she kissed him back.

Her hands gingerly moved up to his shoulders, then neck, then her fingers thread through the ends of his platinum blond hair. She let her tongue touch his, and it was the smartest thing she had ever done. She felt as if she was on fire, burning, even with the chilly air on her back.

He tilted his head, one of his hands firmly on her hip, pulling her closer and closer, while the other was by her neck, his thumb tipping her head up to meet his kisses, the inventive manoeuvres of his tongue.

She tugged on his hair, not gently, when he teased her tongue with his. He tasted so good, so intoxicating. Spicy, minty, sweet - all at the same time. She couldn't get enough.

He pulled away first, breathing heavily. She opened her eyes, to see him searching her face.

When Hermione regained her breath, she spoke softly, her voice coming back to her. "Why-why did you do that?"

Draco smirked down at her. She looked thoroughly snogged, and he was glad to have been the one to cause this - her reddened cheeks, swollen lips and dazed eyes.

"I'll tell you when I find out."

She rolled her eyes, despite the heat rising to her cheeks. She pushed him away, catching him off guard. He balanced himself, light on his feet.

She couldn't face him, even when she said. "Touch me again, and I'll hex you to Antarctica and back."

He watched her dash into school, not quite wanting to believe what just happened.

She was an enigma.

* * *

Later on in the day, just after Quidditch practise, Theo, Blaise and Draco deposited their brooms into the supply shed. Whilst inside, Draco leaned against the door, as the other two tried to make their way through the cluster of mess.

"What the hell is this place?" Blaise groaned, repeatedly stepping on the squishy toys splayed all over the floor.

"Remind me why we didn't bring our own brooms, Captain." Theo directed it at Draco, tossing the old broom onto a pile by the corner.

Draco shrugged, smirking. "If we can play well on these, we'll kill them with our own brooms."

Today was the final, Slytherin versus Gryffindor. The rivalling house had won more of these games, but that wasn't going to happen this year, not if Malfoy had anything to do with it. He'd had all of his team mates train in old, rubbish brooms that should have been classified as hazardous and accident prone. They started whining, and he'd replied with 'grow some balls and play'. They did, - the playing part obviously.

"So, Malfoy." Theo started, wiping his hands against his trousers as he emerged from the shed. "Status on the Granger-bet."

Draco silently watched as Blaise still pushed past the mess, further into the shed - out of ear shot, most likely. He turned to Theo, smirking a little triumphantly.

Theo shook his head slowly, grinning. "No."

Draco pushed himself off the door, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Oh, yes."

"No." He repeated, louder, incredulous.

"Your lack of faith in my pure sexiness upsets me."

"You didn't actually - I mean, _shit_, that's impressive." He raised his eyebrows. "Did she kiss you back?"

The Malfoy merely smirked wider, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly.

"_No_."

"Fuck yes."

"Holy Salazar. And then what?"

Draco stopped, thinking. Then, what? "Uh," He remembered her actions and started questioning them. Was she upset, were they going to be in this annoying, uncomfortable position for the rest of the year? "She...ran."

"She ran?"

"She ran." He repeated, then decided to clarify. "Quickly."

"Goddamn it, Draco." Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Forget that for now. _How was she?_"

Draco's mouth turned up in a smile. His eyes glinted, the memories of last night flashing across them.

His gaze was deep in thought when he replied. "_Granger_. She was so, bloody Granger."

* * *

"Potter with the Quaffle. Passes it to Thoma- and it's intercepted! By Malfoy no less!"

The stadium was filled, glinting red and green. There was the constant, almost-deafening sound of cheering echoing throughout the night. Hermione sat on the freezing bench, her hands on her lap in front of her as she watched on in her Gryffindor scarf and wool coat. She wasn't standing, jumping and swearing loudly like the rest of her house-mates, but she was spectating. Being the quick learner that she was, she grew accustomed to the rules and regulations of the sport, though there was one thing that bothered her. How the hell did they do it?

Her eyes darted, glued to the Quaffle most of the time. Every so often, they would traitorously linger on the blond soaring the skies for a second or two. She'd lose her concentration, her sight on the Quaffle, and have to find it again amongst the blurry athletes and balls. This happened more often than you would expect.

Hermione looked down, at her hands. She could still feel his silky hair between her fingers, his taste as if it was permanently absorbed into her lips.

She snapped out of it when Zacharias yelled louder than necessary. "MALFOY SCORES! AND MAKES IT LOOK _TOO_ EASY."

"Seventy-fourty, to Gryffindor. Isn't that-" Luna's voice seemed unheard by the Slytherin's, who cheered as if they were winning. _  
_

It also seemed irrelevant to the other commentator, as he interrupted massively. "- Come on, Weasley. Chin up." Ron threw him a dirty look from his position by the hoop. Smith continued, chuckling a little. "There's the lad. Strapped your balls back on."

"Mr Smith!" McGonnagall shouted from the stands, her voice muffled by the Slytherin crowd's laughing. She reprimanded him as much as she could with the game still at its peak. "Such language is unacceptable!"

Zacharias coughed a little into the speaker. "Sorry, Professor." He didn't sound sorry, though.

Even Hermione laughed a little at his joke/insult also, watching as Ron's face went as red as his hair. Then, her eyes landed on him again. He looked in deep concentration, determined to tip the scoreline. She had to admire him, in his element, on form. He flew with motive, his every move calculated and defined.

Then, out of nowhere, Harry shot up into the sky, Malfoy on his trail.

"Is that- Potter thinks he's found the snitch! And Malfoy's not far behind."

The two Seekers were flying higher than the rest, their brooms now almost completely vertical. Hermione, with the rest of the girls, collectively gasped. They were dangerously close to falling off, and they all knew it. It didn't seem like the two cared, though, being the reckless freaks they were.

"It's a one-on-one, Draco Malfoy versus Harry Potter once again!"

Draco reached his arm out towards the golden snitch now currently paused in the air, wings fluttering. It wouldn't help with his balance, Hermione knew, and that frightened her. Her heart was beating fast, her blood pumping in her ears. She silently prayed they'd both be safe, though she could feel herself root for Malfoy to get the snitch. She felt horrible for not instantly wanting her best friend for so many years, and house mate to win, but she couldn't help her mixed feelings.

Then, something happened. Hermione's heart dropped.

The snitch had made one of its crazy, unexpected moves and flew straight down the pitch. Draco swore, off balance a lot. Harry's broom was once again horizontal. Taking a deep breath, Draco spun in the air skilfully before diving down for the snitch.

He needed to win. He worked too hard to let it go now. Even Potter didn't take the risk of going down after the game-changer at top speed.

The crowd became silent, incredibly silent, with everyone who was sitting now standing in awe and anticipation. Hermione slowly stood, her breathing ragged and hard. Everyone's eyes were on the diving Slytherin, and even the commentators were hushed.

A few feet above the pitch grounds, Draco's fingers closed around the reluctant snitch. Finally, he thought triumphantly, closing his eyes. The wind blew his hair back and whistled in his ears. It was serene.

But the crowd didn't cheer, since Draco wasn't stopping and rectifying his position. He still headed down to the ground at top speed, and it didn't look like he had any time to fly back up, or even stop for that matter.

_Malfoy, stop. Stop, dammit!_

Hermione absently patted her robes for her wand, her eyes not wavering from Draco's now falling form. She could _Wingardium Leviosa_. She could save him. She could stop the maniac. But she left her wand in her bag, and couldn't remember that fact. Not now, when all that was reflected in her shiny eyes, was the image of Draco Malfoy falling to his death.

Panic welled up in her chest, threatening to make her crumble. Draco didn't seem to care that he was falling, or maybe he didn't notice.

All the players yelled at him to fly up, do something. "Malfoy, watch out!" "Oi, Malfoy! Stop!" "What are you doing?! Move!" He didn't.

Draco noticed the lack of cheering, and slowly lifted his eyelids, only to find himself headed straight for the ground.

_CRASH!_

All the girls screamed, the boys cringed with wide eyes. Hermione screamed too, but no sound came out. She was rendered soundless. But, with some sense still left in her, she was one of he firsts to push past the fans desperately and sprint down the stairs towards the groaning Slytherin now writhing in pain.

_Draco. Draco, you need to be okay. I swear to God, if you die, I will kill you. _

McGonnagall was down to the scene in moments. Everyone surrounded the injured Seeker, and all the players flew down, none quite celebrating as yet.

He wasn't in an odd position, but was in immense pain. "Fuck!" He was groaning, clutching his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he was impatiently trying to move.

Hermione tried to move her way to the front, but was blocked by his adoring fans, who were fanning him and screaming girlishly and irritatingly.

The snitch lay unmoving by his twitching fingers.

Nobody even noticed when she crouched down and pocketed it swiftly.

She wanted to help him, tell him that he was going to be okay and not to move like a bloody idiot because he was making it worse.

But she was Hermione Granger and he was Draco Malfoy and she had no choice but to calm the fuck down and wait to get him alone.

_Later_. She told herself, trying to breath normally. She backed away from the scene, not letting her weak knees let her down.

* * *

*Evil laugh* Review.


	11. Cowards

Author's Note: And we have actual human interaction in this chapter. Wahay. Thanks a lot for the recommendations, they were brilliant. I don't have much to say, except that I know it's quite a late update. Sorry about that, by the way. Anyway, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 2, 431.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (11) Cowards.

Read&Review.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

_Ugh. It's bright. So fucking bright. _

_Piss off, light. _

_Oh shit, that hurts. _

_Fuck. What the hell happened to me?_

_Right, fall. Big, fucking hard fall. _

_But, wait. The match. The match. We won. We won? We won. They lost. Gryffindor lost. Harry Potter lost. _

_It was worth it._

_For fuck's sake, my chest. Did I break something? Are there scars? There better be scars. _

_Bitches love scars. _

_Turn the Goddamn light off before I kill someone. _

_Uggg. _

_Granger. Granger? Where is she? I remember her. Seeing her face, was it? Yes it was. Her face, somewhere amongst the shitheads crowded around me. She looked scared. _

_Where is she? _

* * *

"Draco." His room mates entered the Infirmary, carrying three glass bottles and the Hogwarts Quidditch Trophy.

They looked smug and beyond pleased with themselves. Theo passed Blaise a bottle whilst they took seats by his bed, setting the trophy on his bed.

Draco smirked at the cup, grasping it before it disappeared or something.

Blaise leaned back in his chair, before setting the spare bottle on the table by Draco's temporary bed. "Isn't she a beaut?"

Draco was staring at it, the way it caught the light in the perfect places. It was quite large, and cold under his fingers but he didn't care. He ran the tips of his fingers over the detailed patterns engraved onto the two handles, then over the plaque at the bottom. It had a list of the previous winners, and after about four _Gyrffindors_ in a row, it showed _Slytherin, _shiny and new and rightfully put.

The Slytherin Seeker had to agree. "She's perfect."

Theo grinned, took a drink and nodded to Draco's bottle. "Drink up. It's the drink of winners."

He rolled his eyes, grabbing his own drink and letting the cool, sweet taste of Butterbeer refresh his parched throat. "I needed that."

"How're you holding up?"

"I'm not dead." Draco said, holding his bottle up a little as a toast to his survival.

They took the hint and held their bottles up too, before taking another swig in unison.

"Shame, really." Theo muttered, licking his lips. "Could've died a hero."

"Pity." Blaise agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "You can still rectify that, you know."

Draco smirked into the bottle, holding it to his mouth for a moment before shrugging and taking another gulp.

Theo spoke again, turning to Blaise. "What do you think, Blaise ma' boy? Has our Slytherin Sex God been visited by the Gryffindor Minx yet?"

Malfoy groaned, rolling his eyes and tipping his head back in frustration. He hadn't thought about her the whole of the day, granted that it was quite early in the morning, but still. Now all his thoughts were directed at Hermione Granger.

Blaise slapped a hand down onto Theo's shoulder, offering him a wise look. He shook the shoulder he gripped a little, tilting his head to feign thought. "Well, Theo ol' buddy ol' pal, I would say no. As, one, he doesn't have a boner."

"Crude arse." Draco interjected nonchalantly.

"And two," Blaise went on, unfazed and holding up to fingers. "He's not swooning or squealing with joy."

"I don't swoon." The blond defended haughtily.

"Oh, no. Draco is a much classier chick. He faints." Theo commented, gesturing to the Infirmary bed.

* * *

Draco was in the middle of driving Madame Pomfrey up the wall - enjoying himself immensely whilst doing so - when Crabbe and Goyle sauntered in.

"For the last time, Mr Malfoy." She told him, shaking her head furiously. "Stay still while I give you the medication."

He smirked up at her from the bed in reply. "You can tie me up if you like." He said cheekily, winking saucily.

"Mr Malfoy." Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes, scolding him instead of shouting like the first dozen times he'd said something inappropriate. "Stop moving."

"Only if you make me, baby-"

"Oi, Malfoy!" Goyle interrupted, bursting into the Infirmary like a drunken man.

Turned out, he was in fact drunk. And so was Crabbe.

Draco had to smile. He noticed the fact that they were utterly pissed within seconds of their arrival, and was just waiting to see Pomfrey explode again.

He sneaked a look at the Healer, and then the drunken idiots. "Yo." He welcomed them, something he wouldn't have done under any other circumstance.

"You's is good." One of them said, loudly and annoyingly. Their words were stuck together, slurring as Goyle staggered towards the bed. "You's is make us winners."

"Five years!" Crabbe yelled. "Five years! No. Was it four? I don't know. But..years! We won!"

And the moment had come, Madame Pomfrey came out of her shock and burst into action, in front of them in a flash. "Excuse me, but what in the world do you think you're doing? I'll have you expelled. What are your names?"

Crabbe said, "Gregory Goyle," the same time Goyle said, "Vincent Crabbe, miss."

Draco laughed as she escorted them out, talking about how she was going to tell McGonagall.

"Brilliant." He muttered to himself, wiping away a tear.

* * *

"Oh, Drakieee."

_Merlin's balls._

Draco turned in the infirmary bed, burying his head deeper into the pillow. It smelt old and with traces of medicinal odours, but it was the only thing that could possibly hide him.

"Oh, poor baby." He heard her rush up to his side, and he muttered curses under his breath, into the fabric. She put a hand on his shoulder, and ran her chubby, sticky fingers through his hair.

Before she could stroke his scalp again, he swiftly grabbed her wrist, not moving his head an inch, and pushed her hand away as soon as it came into contact with his. It was as if her skin scalded his.

"Fuck off, Pansy." He mumbled into the fabric.

He realised too late that using her first name made her happy, which made her hopeful, causing her to talk to him more and annoy him to no ends.

She settled down in the chair noisily. Homicidal thoughts filled his head. Some of them were deposited into the _Possibility_ cabinet in his mind.

"Oh, my poor wittle Dwakie." She said. "Do you want me to rub your back?"

He didn't reply, struggling to breath. He pushed himself off his pillow, turning slowly to lie on his aching back. He draped an arm over his eyes. "I want you to fucking leave."

"Oh, sweetie. You're just delusional with all the medicine." She stroked his arm. He cringed. "I can stay and lie next to you all night. I'm free."

"Parkinson, leave now, or I will hex you."

"Oh, Drakie-"

"Leave."

"But-?"

He threw the closest thing he could find, at her. It was a pillow, and it didn't do much damage unfortunately, but she got the hint and stomped off.

* * *

He awakened to the barely muffled sound of shoes hesitantly clacking against the floor.

He got up slowly, painfully. It was a little dark by then, and the medication was barely starting to work. However, the sudden light caused his eyes to squint and his vision to become blurry for a few long moments.

When it cleared, the first thing he saw was _her_. He warmed and chilled from head to toe.

"Granger." Draco said, quite surprised when he saw her tentatively enter.

There was worry and concern written all over her face, but her shoulders relaxed when he spoke to her. "Hi." She breathed, evidently relieved.

He smirked a little, clutching his side as he propped himself up.

She rushed to his side. "No, no. Don't get up, please." Her hand reached out to help him, but stopped mid-air, to his annoyance. His fingers itched to touch her.

Draco pushed himself up nonetheless, leaning back against the wall. He raised a pleased eyebrow. "Is that concern I hear?"

She smiled, as did her eyes. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Hermione pushed some hair behind an ear before setting her bag down on the floor, and taking a seat by his bed. She practically sat on the edge of it, her arms resting on her thighs.

"It's mere curiosity." She clarified, lieing. "Of course."

"Whatever you say." He winked hotly, eliciting a slow blush.

Dare he say it, he was frustrated. She was acting as if last night hadn't happened. He knew the routine, the pretending routine. It was practically invented by him. He'd walk past a girl he'd slept with the night before without even sparing her a glance. How dare she use this skill on the master?

Rolling her eyes, she spoke after gathering herself, "Are you feeling better?"

"Now, that." Draco gave her a meaningful look. "Is concern."

She scoffed a little, before dusting herself off and making a move to leave. "Well, I have a lot of work to get-"

"Come on, Granger. Don't strut off."

"Shut up." She told him testily, walking away swiftly.

She stopped at the door, rethinking her actions. She seemed pissed at him and she didn't know why. Was it because he inflicted this pain on himself and she didn't like seeing him like this? Because she saw Pansy leave the room just before she entered?

Hermione turned slowly, to only see him counting on his fingers, his thumb, forefinger and middle finger already held up as he smirked at her. "Only three seconds? You're just oozing with worry, tonight."

Rolling her eyes, disregarding the truth in his comment and walking back to his bed. "Don't start." The Gryffindor Princess ordered.

Draco continued to smirk, watching as she settled back into the seat, placing her bag onto the floor.

Truth be told, he was worried for a moment. He'd been pestered by a lot of ass-kissers during his time in the retched infirmary, and when the first good thing walks through the door, she barely makes it two minutes inside before stomping back out. He didn't want to be a dick to her, but he couldn't help the blood running through his veins.

Wait._ What?_

_He didn't want to be a dick to her._ Why the hell wouldn't he want to do that? He'd been doing it all his life. It was one of the only things he was good at, dammit.

This bet was becoming a pain.

"You can come closer you know." He told her, eyeing her distance from his with disdain. He repressed the thoughts of the bet, not caring at the moment."I won't bite."

She raised her eyebrows.

He smirked. "Though I make no promises."

Hermione's eyes were tired of rolling, so she just groaned and pushed herself up, taking up his offer and perching herself on the edge of his bed, trying to keep her distance.

Draco decided to make her squirm. This thing needed to move faster, if he was going to kiss her again.

And, Merlin, did he want to do that.

"About yesterday-"

"There was no yesterday." She cut in sharply, eyes narrowing into slits.

"Excuse me?" He was shocked, outraged and annoyed. What was this girl doing to him?

"There was no yesterday, Malfoy. I have no idea what you're referring to, and I would like it if you'd drop it."

"Well, I sure didn't fucking imagine it." He countered testily. "Why are you walking on glass, Granger?"

"Why are you making me?" She replied, before rubbing her forehead a little. "Please, let's just...forget it?"

"And why the fuck would we do that?"

"Because!" She burst again, now standing up flailing her arms about. Hermione was torn. "Because it was an accident! It shouldn't have happened, alright?"

"Accident?" He repeated slowly - not agreeing ironically -, exasperated and unbelieving. He had half the mind to remind her that she'd kissed him back, and that he'd done it with all sanity intact.

"Yes!" She gestured wildly to herself and him. "We can't just do something like that. You're Draco Malfoy, and I'm Hermione Granger!"

"What are you_ even talking_ about?" He asked, exasperated as he stood up, despite the pain. Draco leaned as far as he could against the bed without sitting on it. Balance was becoming an issue.

"I really don't want to talk about this." She seethed, her voice wavering just a fraction. Th back of her mind told her to sit him back down, stop the pain, help him relax.

"And I really don't care."

Hermione groaned, pulling at her hair. "It's just-! We shouldn't have done what we did. We're not supposed to."

"Jesus, Granger." He growled in return. "Would you stop over-thinking something for a fucking second? Have you ever done something you weren't supposed to?"

"Yes." She replied quickly, angrily. The downside of the fast comeback was that she barely thought before speaking. "I kissed you back, didn't I!"

He stopped, a slow smirk spreading on his lips. "At least you sodding admit it."

"That's it. I'm leaving." She decided, shouldering her bag again, _and for the last time_, she confirmed inwardly. "I'm not standing around arguing with you."

"You started this, you _will_ end it."

"And what the hell do you think I'm doing? Ending. It."

"No. You're running away, like a little bitch."

Anger clouded her mind, her logic and her conscience. "And that's unlike you, is it? Running away?" She added a hysterical laugh just because she was driven crazy with anger at the moment. "You always run away. You're Draco Malfoy, _it's what you do_. You run away from your family, your life, your past, people who even dare to care about you. And you know what? _You're_ the coward, _you're_ the little bitch. So maybe you should get your head out from so far up your arse to look in the mirror and realise that what you see is _disappointing_."

Silence hung in the air for two long minutes.

And then, he chuckled. The chuckling turned into laughing, and the laughing was loud and cold and absolutely humourless.

Fear flashed across her eyes fore a mere second, before guilt rose up her throat, threatening to suffocate her airways.

He stopped laughing, his face suddenly serious. "Get out."

She didn't say anything, just stared at him in shock, her muscles refusing to move at her will.

Draco's eyes seemed the most empty they'd ever been. "_Get the fuck out, you Mudblood whore_."

She almost ran out, composing herself enough to walk quickly and not burst into tears just as yet.

Malfoy slumped against the bed, sat on the floor with his legs out. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to drone out the world.

Soon enough, darkness took over.

* * *

Even _I_ hate myself right now. Review.


	12. Nightmares

Author's Note: Oh, God. I am so sorry. I didn't even realise the pain my readers had to go through near the end of the chapter. It was angst-y, dare I say it. And if you've read any of my other stories, you would know that I absolutely hate angst. I didn't know when it sneaked its way into this story. Sneaky little devil. Another thing I'm sorry for: the lateness of this update. I feel so bad, especially since some of you wanted the next update to be earlier.

Hopefully I've made up for it by the content of this chapter. Nope, not telling. You're going to have to read.

Haven't checked through, probably going to be a few mistakes. I'll take care of them tomorrow morning.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 3, 004.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (12) Nightmares.

REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

It had been four days since they'd last spoken to each other.

Four long days that usually consisted of either of them sitting around, watching as the world passed by. It wasn't uncommon for them not to speak, - they were Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, as she so eloquently put it - but after the storm of things that happened recently, it was an odd routine to get into once again.

Draco had been imprisoned in the Infirmary, usually visited by annoying people who either sucked up to him or adored him for the big win. He barely thought about it, the match. In his mind, were only a few lines that were as clear as day and loud as fuck.

_'You always run away. You're Draco Malfoy, it's what you do.'_

He closed his eyes, screwed them shut so there was nothing to see but black.

He was born in it, brought up in it. And however much he tried, he couldn't escape the black.

Especially since it was right there, permanently inked in long, spiralling lines on his forearm. It stared up at him, even in darkness. Even when he used a dozen hiding spells on it, and that was every day, every hour. People knew of his past, that he was forced into becoming a 'proper Malfoy'. Nonetheless, he was ashamed of it, and would have it hidden away rather than out in the open for people to gawk at.

They usually didn't take it well. Either screamed, ran away, or did both simultaneously.

_'You run away from your family, your life, your past, people who even dare to care about you.'_

But the thing was, nobody _did_ care about him. He had people in his life, people that filled his memories and waited at his future, but none of them mattered. Draco was convinced, that if he were to die right now, nobody would give an actual crap.

Right now, he didn't spare a glance at the Dark Mark on his arm. She was right. He was a runner. And a bad one, at that. It was there, it was permanent and it was a reminder of who he _was_. All the spells he'd used to cover it up, the walls he'd built up brick by brick:

Was it worth it?

He was hiding, and that was the truth.

He was hiding and Draco Malfoy told himself he _never_ hid.

He let his past stare him right in the face, maybe even allowing him to move on.

Thus, his lack of bother for casting a hiding spell, Madame Pomfrey gasped and staggered back whilst checking his vitals.

He opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow. "See something you like?"

She sputtered for a reply, blinking numerously. "Mr Malfoy, I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't mean-I really-I-"

He tipped his head back, leaning it against the wall behind him. "Tattoos are sexy, right? Well, not this one. It's not. It's...-what's the word?"

He wondered briefly if he was talking to her or himself. Maybe he was going crazy; yes, that was it.

"No, wait. _Disappointing_. It's a better word, don't you think? _I_ think so."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was acting like a delusional lunatic. But, again, he didn't care.

_'What you see is disappointing.'_

Disappointing. Dis-ap-point-ing. What a beautiful word. It fit perfectly. It summed him up almost unconditionally. Didn't it?

"Mr Malfoy, that is not true. You didn't have a choice-"

"Oh, but Poppy, my dear. That's where your wrong." He told her, his lips curling into a cruel, sinister grin. "How many choices do you have when someone puts a wand to your throat? Not one, but ten. Maybe more. I could've pulled out a stronger wand, could've turned on my father, but no. I had this undying need to please the bastard, and the only way was become a murderer like him."

Madame Pomfrey remained quiet, noticing that he wasn't actually speaking to her. She let him rant, not intervening to remind him how it was not his fault.

_'You're the coward, you're the little bitch.'_

"So, in conclusion, Pops. I'm a coward." He clapped his hands together in finality, then rubbed them together lightly. "But I'm sure you know that already."

The Medi-witch liked the young boy more than any other student in the senior year. He was wounded deeply, emotionally and mentally. And, she really wanted him to be healed. Subsequently, she didn't mind when he called her all the ridiculous nicknames he wanted to.

"Forget _me_. Tell me about you." He was cold with these personal questions. "Is it just me, or does Dumbledore give you sex-eyes every once in a while?"

She smiled a little, amused, patting his knee. Jotting down a few things on her clipboard, she smiled at him. "You're all healed. You can go back, if you like. Or stay here another night, just to be safe."

That wasn't necessary; but she knew he'd want to, however much he would deny it.

"Whatever you say, Pomfrey." He said, sending a silent 'thank you' through his eyes, nonetheless. "Hey, that rhymed."

* * *

"What the bloody hell, Granger."

It was more of a comment, than a question concerning her actions.

Honestly, he didn't know _what_ to say. She'd visited him, called him out on things no one dared to utter and completely disregarded his incredible kissing abilities.

And now, now, she stood by the end of his bed, during daytime. She was probably even missing precious library time for this.

Dressed in her robes, quite scruffy - unlike herself - and her hair loose and flowing around her nervous face, she irked the hell out of Draco. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her fingers wrung together, rubbing her sleeveless arms at the low temperature.

She looked at him with a strange expression, one he couldn't decipher.

Unable to do anything but reply, she chewed on her lip before succumbing to her conscience. "Can we talk?" Her voice came out strained and dry, as if she hadn't spoken in a while.

"No."

Hermione had too much pride to apologise. She'd already done it once, and even though the argument was partly her fault, it was also his. Well, at least that's what she told herself.

It was weird feeling like this, so vulnerable and guilty. The regret ate at her until she got by his bed, attracting his attention from the jinxes he was directing at the portraits.

There was no denying the kiss had unhinged her.

But, a girl had to try and deny it.

"I just wanted to–"

"You can't be serious." He didn't even bother giving her the courtesy to stand up and kick her out. He did it from his bed. "Don't you know where you're not wanted, Mudblood?"

A pang shot up her chest. "The other night–"

Another interruption. "Of course you don't. You're still here." He pinched the bridge of his nose, too tired to argue or insult her. He was sure she'd spent a lot of time crying. About what, he was deciding still.

Her _Hermione-ness_ took over at this point. "You don't own the Infirmary, for goodness sake."

If it wasn't for the things she said the last time they were in the same room together still roaming his head, he would have smirked.

"I could buy _you_, and your sodding family out in a _second_."

_Defence mechanisms_, she reminded herself before losing her mind. "The other night–" She repeated, trying again to put a word in edgewise.

_Come on, Malfoy. You can do better than this. Make her cry, make her squirm. You're clearly capable._

"I have a question." He said in his most impersonal voice yet. "Have you put out to Weasel-bee yet, or is he still seeing his hand?"

Low blow. "I know what you're doing and it's not working."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Draco stood from his sitting position and crossed her in two strides. "Fucking know-it-all bitch. What_ don't_ you know? Oh, that's right. How to get laid. Because for that, you need to be barely attractive."

"Stop." She grit out through clenched teeth.

"Or what?" He sneered, invading her personal space.

She had half the mind to hex him into oblivion, but the words that spilled out of her mouth were quite the contrary.

"I don't want to fight with you, Draco."

"Don't fucking call me that."

Hermione had enough of being the feeble little girl. She stuck her chin out in defiance and stepped even closer to him. "Or what?"

He didn't have a reply for that, surprisingly, so she took the opportunity to carry on. She was fighting him, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he admired her for it.

"This fight is pointless." She pointed out. "It's just logical to forget about this, and just go back to being friends." She was going to add that they didn't have feelings for each other, but she didn't think she could lie that convincingly.

"We were never friends." He told her, when all he was mulling over was her presence. Why was she here, making him regret the things he'd said, making him feel guilty and relieved all at once?

"I disagree." Was her retort, and Draco scoffed. Pausing to calm her nerves, she took something out of her pocket. "Look. I have a peace offering."

"What? You're bloody insane." He muttered, not even understanding the situation. How was she able to do this to him? He would've kicked out any other girl without a second's thought. Is this how she made up with Pothead and Weasel? "You need to get the hell–"

His words were cut short when she exposed a golden snitch in her palm.

The wings fluttered a little, and then, as if bursting awake, it flew into the air and into his hand, where its wings stopped moving and folded atop each other.

"What is this?" He wanted to speak harshly to her, but only whispered in awe of her consideration, if this was what he thought it was.

"I thought you'd recognise it, self-acclaimed Captain and all." At a sharp glare from him, she explained begrudgingly. "It's the winning snitch, from the final. I don't know, I just thought you'd want to have it after the accident–"

"Thank you." He mumbled, his voice so low that she almost didn't hear him.

"What?" She asked, even as her lips tugged up into a smile.

"I'm not saying it again." Draco growled, before tossing the snitch up and into his other hand. "And for your information, they _begged_ me to be captain."

"Was it because of your humility?"

He smirked, and her heart practically swelled with relief. She was never so happy to see him smirk before.

"It was definitely a deciding factor."

* * *

_"Please, help me."_

_Her eyes bore into his soul, as he stood in front of the Death Eaters who were currently cheering and clapping. He couldn't swallow, couldn't move, couldn't even–breathe. Breathe, dammit. _

_A girl, about the same age as him if not older, floated above the meeting table, her body arched back into a deeply uncomfortable position with her arms and legs loose and motionless. Her eyes however, still darted around the room, even as she was looking at it upside-down, and her eyes blinked over and over again, tears pooling under her. _

_The room was dark, but faded. He had been here enough times to know all the exits, one by the corner, one behind him and the crowd acting as a barrier. His father stood next to him, wand held out as a cruel smile took over his lips. He was enjoying this, the bastard. _

_Draco couldn't take it anymore. There was no more air left in the room, and–and–breathe, Draco, breathe. _

_"Draco." The girl's lips moved into the shape of a scream, but he heard his name. It was from her though, the voice was feminine and invading his ears. "Draco, wake up." _

_The hell–_

"Come on, Malfoy. Wake _up_."

His dream fell apart and he was soon lulled into consciousness by a pair of hands clutching his shoulders, shaking them lightly. His eyes opened, only to find everything blurry and unclear.

Blinking didn't help much, but he could make out the girl who stood above him, her cool fingers now on his collarbone – slowly helping his sweating, panting form.

Granger.

She was smiling slightly, releasing a sigh of relief.

In that moment, just wanting to _breathe_ and feel _something alive_, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her down on top of him. With enough mind power to remind him that she'd escape, he rolled them around on the bed, so they were side by side.

His vision was getting clearer, but not quite vivid enough. He still couldn't breathe. It was hot. It was _burning_.

At her wince, he let go of her wrists, realising somewhere in the back of his mind that he was hurting her, and pulled her against him. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close and still whilst his head buried itself in the crook of her neck. Instantly, a gust of sweet smelling shampoo filled his nose, and he wanted to get closer to the core.

There was a distinct feeling of warmth that radiated off her, and he need to feel it overwhelm him. So, with what little sanity he had left, he let his fingers splay onto the skin of her back, under her shirt.

Hermione was shocked, to say the least.

She'd been worried when witnessing one of his nightmares. Draco had been panting, groaning and muttering incoherently. Not to forget the way he clutched at the sheets and writhed as if in pain. When he awoke, he looked so vulnerable and fragile in that moment, she doubted for a moment who she was looking down at.

But, now, as his hot breath blew against her neck and his fingers pressed into her bare skin; she ran a hand through his too-soft-to-be-true tresses and whispered calming words into his ear. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest at the situation, but she maintained her voice somehow.

"It's okay. You're okay."

Draco nodded a little into her neck, and she couldn't help but smile slightly. He pulled his head back a little, cheek brushing against cheek. Hermione could feel the heat rushing to the tips of her ears.

Their eyes locked and everything came into sharp focus.

"Granger." He rasped, voice rough from sleep – or lack thereof.

"Malfoy." She said slowly, wondering whether or not he'd come into full consciousness, or was still a little delusional.

Their heads were both rested on one pillow as her brain tried to work a way to make this seem platonic.

Hermione decided that he was still confused with what was reality and what wasn't, as the next words out of his mouth were: "Thank God it wasn't you."

"What–" She exhaled in the form of the word.

The next moment happened in a flash, and all she could think was that he might've been in control of his actions after all.

His lips were hot against hers, and the difference in temperature only made her heart beat faster. His fingers, which were still under her shirt – she'd gotten comfortable to the new feeling to even argue with it – brushed up and away, until his hands were clutching her just above her hips firmly.

The touch of his mouth was barely that. Barely a touch. He'd pulled back to gauge her reaction, until he was sure that she wasn't going to either run or hex him.

When what he saw was her eyelids closed and her lips parted, he swiftly brought a hand up to tentatively touch thread into her hair. Before letting her say something, or realise the lack of contact, he moved in for another kiss, this one firmer.

She couldn't register why he was doing this to her, only that it felt _too good_ to stop. Her hands were already in his hair, her lips already pressing back.

Unlike the kiss they'd shared before, Draco let his urges bubble beneath the surface. Their lips moved across each other's gently, softly.

He pressed even further against her mouth, but somehow kept the kiss languid and unhurried. His tongue traced across her bottom lip, but didn't demand entrance into her mouth. He just wanted to _kiss_ her, for as long as he could.

Breaking off with a tender, lingering kiss, he kept their lips inches away, their breaths mingling in what air was between them.

_He could breathe. _

Without another word, Draco had pulled the covers on top of both of them, and then dragged his arm down to curl around her waist.

As his eyes closed, Hermione thought about making a run for it. She could feel herself set aflame by his fire, and she needed to get out. She needed to get out before she was in too deep. _Too late._ He held her gently, making it almost _too_ easy to slip through.

But when she tried, a word rolled over his tongue and into her ear. "Stay."

"I really can't–" The Gryffindor started, noting the way he looked so peaceful and innocent while he slept.

"Just a little longer." He whispered, still not opening his eyes. "Let's go to sleep."

She opened her mouth to disagree and make a move to leave, but seeing him like this, so content and exposed at the same, with his walls down and his inner-most feelings on the tip of his tongue – could she resist?

"Fine." Hermione whispered, smiling when he nestled his head into the pillow even further. "But only a little longer."

Her eyes closed, telling herself that it was_ just for a few moments, and then she'd go back to her room. _She instinctively relaxed into his hold, moulding herself against him.

* * *

*Gasp* What's this? Have I actually made you guys remotely happy?

Reward me with some reviews, maybe.


	13. Progress

Author's Note: I'm not dead, just to let you guys know. I know I should apologise again, but I think it's implied with every update by now, don't you? I've included more Blaise and Theo, because like you, I miss them too. I'll probably have a lot more Gryffindor interactions and all the sorts next chapter, but for now, it's just the two protagonists actually getting somewhere with their almost-there-but-not-even-close-relationship. I hate giving spoilers at the beginning of the chapter, but honestly, how many of you even read my author's notes? I'm actually wondering if I've included too _many_ Dramione scenes. Crazy, no? Why are you still reading this — if you are?

Read the chapter, 'tis good, I think.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 4, 457. (I thought I'd be generous and make up for the wait.)

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (13) Progress.

Read&Review.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

"What in the _world._"

Poppy Pomfrey walked into her Infirmary bright and early for a morning inspection. The students admitted there could have gotten worse, or slightly better overnight. It was her job to help them recover, or send them on their way so they wouldn't be bunking any lessons. What she never came across, however, was two people sleeping on the same bed, as if they'd done it for years.

So, really, you couldn't blame her for her outburst.

It apparently didn't wake either of them, and she had to pause to admire the way they looked so peaceful and innocent together like that. This generation of children, particularly, were thrown into adulthood way before their time. Loss of innocence was inevitable.

Draco stirred a little, pulling the girl beside him closer to snuggle against.

At that moment, the Healer's eyes registered and widened the face of the _girl_ in the bed. Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Golden Girl, part of the Golden Trio - well, that was a lot of _golds_. Because it was _her_, and not some air-headed bimbo the young, unstable man had shagged on a whim, the older woman's eyes softened. This was truly something. They were fully dressed (she tipped a corner of the blanket back using her wand to check) and soundly in slumber.

Gryffindor Princess and Slytherin Prince.

It was something Rita Skeeter would paste across the first five pages of the Daily Prophet.

Poppy noticed the light streaming the window just above the sleeping 'couple', and muttered a few spells under her breath to have the curtains close themselves. It seemed to stop the young man from drifting in and out of consciousness, and let him go back to sleep.

Smiling and noting to herself not to blurt this walk-in to any other staff members, she turned and checked on the other patients before realising she was yet to check on the blond.

She practically tip-toed to his bed, contemplating whether or not to scan him with her wand. It would wake him up, and she didn't want to be there for that. Deciding that she had to do her job thoroughly, Poppy waved her wand over his form as quietly as she could.

Draco, as aware of his surroundings as ever, turned swiftly. The sounds of moving blankets filled the silent room.

He looked up at her blankly, then rubbed his eyes to clear his vision.

"It's alright. I'm just checking—"

"Madame Pomfrey, I know what this looks—"

At the use of her formal name, she laughed slightly, placing a hand on the young boy's shoulder. He must have thought he was in trouble. "I know. Go back to sleep, I'm just checking your vitals one last time before heading out."

He nodded shortly, interrupted when Hermione turned in the bed, outstretched her arm to grab his shirt, and pulled him back to the warmth in the middle of the bed. All whilst asleep.

Draco's betraying body actually made him _blush_.

Poppy Pomfrey smiled all the way to her chambers.

* * *

Draco awoke to the soft curves of a woman pressed against his front.

His eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the light at first. His vision cleared quickly, and the first image that filled his line of sight was the sleeping form of the girl he'd been pursuing for the last few weeks. But the thing was, she was not just 'the girl he'd been pursuing'. Especially now, as she lay fully clothed and sound asleep with no intent of grabbing her lingerie up off the floor and leaving him be with a 'good fucking'.

He remembered kissing her. Kissing her like his sanity depended on it. He had an inkling that maybe, it did.

He briefly wondered if she was the only girl he'd ever slept with, without actually_ sleeping with._

Swallowing, as Draco's mouth was as dry as sandpaper for Merlin's sake, he shifted his position. Only then, did he realise that his arm was draped across her smooth hip, holding her to him.

A tug later, another fact came to his realisation. Their fingers were entwined and their palms pressed against each other's; making it practically impossible for him to pull their hands apart without waking her.

And, he didn't want to wake her.

But, now that he thought about it: he didn't want to flee either. Distinctly wondering how their hands came to that position, he nuzzled closer to the comfort he felt as he drifted out of subconsciousness. His nose buried into the voluptuous curls of her hair, silently praying she wouldn't spring awake and hex him terribly. His mind stopped working when she shivered slightly, pulling the covers up further and pressing herself against him even more so for warmth.

Fuck thinking.

* * *

"Mate, the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Theo looked up, zipping up his pants. "What."

Blaise had his hands up in front of him, in a half-shrug. His boxers were the only garment he'd chosen to sport. "You know what."

Pulling on his oxford and proceeding to button it down, Theo rolled his eyes.

"No," He corrected in quite the condescending tone, mentally patting his back for it. "I don't believe I do."

"Stop acting innocent, you son of a bitch." He accused, pointing a finger at his once-friend standing opposite him.

Tie: Loop, pull, slip through the hole, then pull and tighten.

"If it's your time of the month, Blaise, just say so." Theo shrugged, smirking at the way the Italian snarled. "I don't think I have time for you to _man_struate so early in the morning."

There was silence for ten seconds, making Theo glad. His head was throbbing and it wasn't even due to a hangover - the only time he would accept the pain.

"You flirted with Lovegood yesterday."

Theo burst into laughter, dropping onto the foot of the bed. "Wait, _what_?"

The guy finally decided to put some pants on, as Theo waved his wand to polish his own shoes and hair.

"I don't know what game you're playing, but I saw you."

"Right ... doing _what_, exactly?"

"Flirting!"

"With Lovegood? Are you mental?"

"Don't talk about her like that."

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, deciding to stop poking Blaise with a stick. "Alright, alright. I admit, I ... _did_ charm her pants off."

Blaise plucked up his wand, making Theo reel back and lift his palms up in surrender.

"Theoretically! Metaphorically! _Merlin_."

He raised an eyebrow, expecting an explanation.

"I was trying to get some information on the Red, okay? Does that satisfy you, you fuckwit?"

"You mean ... you fancy Weasley?" The bastard had the nerve to smirk.

"Well the bird, yes." Theo almost blushed at her image popping up in his mind.

"Awh, Theo-weo has a wittle cwushy-wushy."

"Don't." Theo growled as his friend finally put on some clothes in a hurry. "Besides, I have some questions on this obsession you seem to have on Loony."

Blaise set his jaw. "Keep them to yourself."

"Why? Have I hit a _nervy-wervy_?"

They smirked at each other.

"Fair enough. Did you ask her to Hogsmeade, then?"

"I might've." He replied, a little shyly.

"And?" Blaise raised an eyebrow in amusement. If the guy wasn't gloating, it obviously didn't go well. He briefly wondered why he hadn't asked Luna out as yet. Maybe it was that he hadn't really spoken to her, if sex-eyes and flirty comments didn't count.

"I don't know."

"So was it a slap, or did she knee you in the balls?"

A pillow was thrown.

"Piss off."

Another one, bouncing off the top of Blaise's head.

"Wait, wait."

Theo halted, holding a paperweight as ammo mid-air.

"Where the fuck is Draco?"

* * *

"I have to go."

Hermione's voice was barely a whisper as she told him.

The back of her mind registered the day, and thanked God it was Saturday. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks and paint them probably the darkest shade of red; just trust her body to expose her deepest feelings point blank. Even though he was sleeping, the chance that he would awaken to her flushed face, would embarrass her to no ends – though why she cared, she refused to believe.

Maybe she had watched him sleep for longer than one could deem sane?

The clichés that swam through her mind at the sight of his sleeping form, almost made the feminist cringe. But, Merlin help her, he ticked all the boxes.

His body was turned towards her, giving her a clear view of him. The thumb of the hand slipped under her top and draped over her hip slowly drew small circles onto the skin. Tingles practically shot from his fingers and ran up her spinal cord at the affectionate, yet sensual gesture. Their legs were entangled and she couldn't think of somewhere else she'd rather be.

She wasn't even supposed to have stayed the night. With him. In the same bed.

So when she spoke to him, Hermione expected a lack of reaction, which she would take advantage of and run, even though she didn't really want to.

Instead, he made her jump by shifting closer up against her, and burying his head into her hair.

Whispers were muttered against her ear. "No you don't."

She briefly wondered why she was surprised. "Damn it, Malfoy. Don't scare me like that."

He pulled back slightly, smirking when he noticed her wide eyes and gaping face. "It's _Malfoy_ now, is it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing him away with a badly hidden smile. "It's not like you ever call me Hermione."

She pulled herself up to a sitting position while he just propped his head on his hand, watching her unabashedly.

"Her-mio-ne." He said slowly, rolling the name over his tongue in a way which made her shiver.

"Stop." She said half-heartedly, still not comprehending the relationship they had.

"Hermione."

"Will you—"

"Hermione."

"For _Godric's sake—_" She rolled out of the covers, standing and brushing herself off.

"Hermione." He called, urgently this time.

She huffed, exasperated. "Yes?"

"Come back to bed."

Her heart did sharp acrobatics at his words. "Excuse me?" Her voice came out strained and small.

The way he made it feel like they were_ fucking together_; it excited and unnerved her.

He sighed, deciding to take the logical approach to get her to stay. "Leaving in broad daylight to the crowds of people who will notice your night clothes and probably—if even remotely clever, make the link between me residing in this bored-to-deathbed? Bad move."

She wordlessly sat back down, rolling her eyes. He smirked, but said nothing, much to her relief.

Her face clearly showed the thoughts running through her head. And, as usual, there were many. Most of them consisted of questions regarding his health, his well being, as she inwardly cared too much.

He let his head drop back onto the pillow, before taking a deep breath and exhaling. "Go on. Ask."

"I wasn't—"

He only shot her a knowing look, to which she replied by smiling sheepishly and biting her lip out of habit. His mind was suddenly clouded with memories of their intimate kiss. He was out of his mind when he did it. It wasn't like he had a death wish. It was that she was there, and she was _real_.

_Shit. Why did I kiss her?_

"Do they come often, the nightmares?"

"...Yes. Almost every night. I just—I can handle them, usually. I don't know what happened last night."

"What did you see?"

"The same girl. She was dying—no, being killed. By them. By..._us_."

He pulled up his forearm to her line of sight. The Dark Mark staring at her made her gasp and her eyes bulge.

His eyes steeled irrationally. "Maybe you _should_ go."

"No!" She suddenly disagreed, leaping forward to take his arm and pull it gently towards her lap. "No, I didn't—I didn't mean—I'm _so_ sorry. I've just seen it on...others."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she starting running her fingers over the thick swirling lines so evident on his pale skin. The skull seemed to glare up at her, but she paid it no attention, teased it even, by tracing a cross over it's head. She gently, tentatively dragged the tips of her fingers down the marked skin. It was smooth, however. No ridges or bumps which she expected.

Draco's breath was coming hard and fast, unable to control his own body. Nobody had ever _touched_ his mark. Nobody.

He didn't know it would feel so good when someone did.

"You stopped running." She whispered almost inaudibly, not looking up at him as her fingers continued their ministrations. She swiped the pad of her thumb over the whole thing, and he tried not to groan at the pleasure burning through his veins. He gripped her arm below her elbow to stop himself from practically growling out loud. She wasn't fazed, only looked down at the tattoo with interest.

_Because of this. I kissed her because she is just this. _

Her hair curtained her face, falling down around her and the ends tickling his skin.

She dipped her head down, and the moment her lips touched the sensitive, damaged skin, he was tipped over the edge.

He growled, literally _growled_, pulling her up and into a laying position on the bed, with his body pressed above hers, their faces inches away.

Her heart hammered in her chest, waiting for him to engulf her in a deep, long-awaited kiss.

He didn't, quite as yet. He instead slipped his hand down the arm by her side, finding her hand and bringing her arm up to bend at the elbow. He laced his fingers through hers, watching her reaction to this intimate possessiveness.

Hermione exhaled shakily, her head turned to see their intertwined fingers, unnerved by the feeling of his cool fingers between hers. Her lips twitched into a smile she couldn't control.

"Can _you_ stop running?" He murmured to her.

She was about to nod, about to reach up and bring his head down the last few inches, but she didn't have the chance.

"_Eh em_."

Hermione gasped whilst Draco merely sighed and rolled off of her, unlinking their fingers.

Madame Pomfrey looked a mixture of amused and confused on whether or not to punish them for the compromising position.

Hermione didn't give her the opportunity to decide, as she leapt off the bed and muttered a 'I'm so sorry, it wasn't what it looked like' before darting out of the room.

"Before you start," Draco held his hands up in surrender. "—it was all me. She was...Granger wasn't at fault."

_Granger, hmm?_

Pomfrey shook her head, walking past him to the next bed to turn down the covers. "You are lucky you're cute. Now, please leave my Infirmary before you scar some first years."

* * *

One thing he didn't miss during his time in the hell hole: Parkinson.

Especially as she ran up to him the moment he stepped into the Slytherin Common Room, squeezing him tightly. Her smell, the one of extreme perfume use, choked him. He let her have a few short moments of glory, before lifting his arms and pushing her away quickly. Not hard, as he wasn't in a bad mood after..._her_.

"Oh my God, Drakie. I missed you so much."

All he could think about was the curve of Hermione's lips, the softness of her skin. How close he was to kissing her again. And again._ And again. _

So when he actually smirked at her, Pansy was shell-shocked. "That's great, Parkinson. See you around."

His shirt sleeve was down, so no one could really see the unmasked tattoo. He didn't want the Slytherins to act like it was a cool thing to have the curse, like it was actually _impressive_. It was a burden, a horrifying part of him, but he was tired of pretending to be someone he wasn't. Even if he was no longer the cold, wannabe' Death Eater he was years ago, he couldn't stand hiding from his past any longer. It wouldn't be something he'd flaunt. He'd hide it most of the time, but not because it wasn't there. He wanted people to know it was there, but also know that_ it didn't matter_. But, he'd rather not watch most people run away, so keeping it there for him to remember and _never_ go down the path again, but out of plain site — was the best option.

"Well, fucking finally."

He entered his dormitory to see his two friends smirking at him smugly.

"Missed me?" He flashed a very _Malfoy_ smile, sliding a hand into his pocket.

"Someone looks..._happy?_" Theo said his thoughts out loud, the last word of the sentence coming out as an almost exclamation of surprise.

"Is it _that_ hard to believe?"

"Yes, actually." Blaise told him. "You don't _do_ happy."

"I do satisfied."

"No, no, no." Blaise panicked, jumping to conclusions. "You can't have slept with her. I swear to Salazar, you man-slut, how the fuck did you sleep with Granger, _already_? I thought she was all pure and shit—"

Draco's jaw clenched. "She _is_. I didn't fuck her, you idiot. She's not bloody like that, alright?"

Theo smirked at his cold, warning tone while Blaise just gaped in surprise.

Draco soon realised how that might have sounded and tried to play it off. He masked his sudden, baseless anger over with dickhead-edness. "I mean, she's a prude. Frigid. No one would want to fuck someone so inexperienced, any way."

_Nice going, Draco. _

* * *

Two days later, Draco and Hermione both sat in the library, revising for an upcoming test.

It was coincidence that they ended up going there at the same time, when no one else loitered around. It was only logical to take the same table, whatever feelings they pretended not to have for each other. They didn't speak, didn't talk, but only sat in oddly comfortable silence.

They did, however keep sneaking glances at each other; Draco not blushing every time he got caught staring, however. She wondered if he did it on purpose — let her catch him rake his eyes across her. He was too intrigued with the image of her concentrating hard on something, well, trying. It was hard with his sexiness distracting her constantly.

Feeling the sudden need to tease her, he reached out to grab the book her arm was outstretched to take. Their fingers met on the medium-sized hardback, and he held hers down before she could pull them back. His gentle, dexterous fingers waltzed down her hand, reaching the inside of her wrist, a sensitive patch of skin.

"If you want to touch me, Granger;" He spoke in that velvety, smooth voice that made a shiver run up her spine. "—just touch me."

When her voice came back to her, she tore her eyes away from his dark, lustrous ones and to the book she was meant to be reading. "Why would I want to touch you, Malfoy?"

He set his jaw and made her realise that she actually missed his touch when he released his hold on her wrist.

"If that's how it is." He said in an indifferent voice, so unlike his tone before. He went back to his work, not paying her any more attention.

She'd snap, he knew it.

"Fuck it." Hermione said suddenly, making Draco look up from the book he was leafing through.

He looked around a little, surprised at her outburst. There was no one, however, at the library but them — allowing her curse words to hit only his ears.

"I don't—."

She reached over the table and gripped the silk of his tie tightly. The sudden forced movement had him standing up and over, his palms swiftly bracing the table so balance wouldn't become an issue.

Her lips stopped his mid-smirk; her free hand dragging short nails over his scalp whilst the other continued to pull him closer by the tie. He couldn't help but smile triumphantly into the kiss, knowing he'd won their little game. She really didn't care _who_ had won, as she felt quite victorious at the moment.

When she detached herself from the tender, gentle kiss; a smile pulled the corners of her lips upwards into a smile.

"Don't start."

"I didn't even say anything." His gaze smouldered her, his hot breath blowing onto her face and brushing some hair out of her face.

"You were thinking it." She retorted, releasing her hold on the garment.

"Actually," He pointed out, dodging around the table and then catching her hand in his before pulling her flush against him. He had her against the table within seconds. "I _was_ thinking. Damn, Granger. What—," His head dipped his lips brushed momentarily against the corner of her mouth. He did it slowly, purposely, taking his time.

He'd pulled back an inch, murmuring sensually against her lips. "—do you do to me." It wasn't a question, a thought, statement to himself.

She shivered, because Merlin help her, pleasure burned through her veins.

"What?" Hermione whispered back, knowing this was just another one of his lines, the ones that made the girls swoon and drop their pants without a second thought. She wouldn't be one of those girls, would she? No. She felt herself tense.

"You...just, _ruined_ _everything_." He informed her, clutching the edge of the table with his hands on either side of her so she wouldn't take it the wrong way and try to escape. She definitely knew _that_ wasn't one of his lines; if it was, it'd be insulting, if anything.

She found herself repeating his previous, surprised words. "I don't—."

And similar to last time, he interrupted her, though not with a kiss. He pressed his torso against hers, stopping her words in a choke of breath. He skimmed his fingers down her sides and she instinctively relaxed.

He continued. "I don't know how you did it. Just walked into my life." A break to laugh softly, shortly. "Everything I thought, everything I was taught to believe in, you fucked it up. I thought I had you all figured out, though." He went on to say. "You were the only girl in the whole school that didn't fancy me." His fingers brushed her collarbone, making her breath hitch evidently. She chose not to point out that there was a small part of her that appreciated his hotness from time to time, or that he was being an egotistical prat.

Was he blaming her for something? No, his voice was too sincere, too passionate.

"And I just—I wanted you—_want_, you."

Hermione's heart stopped all together, then.

"Gods, I can't think with you in my head all the time. All the fucking time. Those little sounds you make when I touch you, when I kiss you—they make me _crazy_."

She didn't want anything more than to prove him right and let herself get lost in his burning heat.

"So, Granger, do you know what you do to me?"

She shook her head no.

"You drive me insane."

The collision of lips in the flurry of arms and fingers warmed Draco to his toes. Her hands were in his hair, his resting on her waist as if they belonged. Her tongue was in his mouth before he could react, which he did nonetheless. Her mouth swallowed the soft moan he breathed, returning hot breaths into the air every time their lips parted before reconnecting barely a moment later. Her hands moved to grip his shirt, instead of his tie, to pull him closer. His mouth slanted over hers quite intimately, comfortably.

It's need and passion and want that drives the kiss to delve into the depths, with their teeth clanging and tongues clashing. It wasn't like she would let him have all the satisfaction, even if she thought he deserved it after that speech. Even with his talented, thrusting tongue, she had to fight back and prove her...well, her Gryffindor-ness.

His brain was everywhere and he couldn't grasp a coherent thought, but it's not like he actually gave a fuck about _thinking, _any more. She let out a shaky breath, making him smirk into her mouth. She slapped his upper arm almost instantly. Eventually, the short intakes and releases of breath they had mustered through the movement of tilting their heads, or breaking a kiss to begin another, was not enough. They break away, breathing heavily from the hungry kiss.

The previously static air calmed into a gentle buzz caused by the change in emotions.

Draco gave her a slow smile, and the cutest dimple appeared on his cheek.

_Cute, and Malfoy?_; she thought absently, feeling herself mentally note the position and adorableness of the dimple.

He pressed his forehead against hers, softly breathing against her face, warming and cooling her instantaneously. She loosened her hold around his neck, but kept her palms on his skin, melting into the embrace.

She didn't realise when her eyes fluttered close again but she felt the world stop. Just _stopped and stood still. _It was strange, and new, and welcomed.

"I don't know whether to be pleased or angry at that." She whispered, lightly tracing his jaws with her fingertip.

"Angry. You're bloody _hot_ when you're angry."

Her cheeks are quickly painted with ten hues of red. His heart leaped. It was even better when she blushed like that. He dragged the pad of his forefinger down her blushing cheek, stroking the skin gently and letting her know the genuineness of his words.

Not taking into the account the moment or their position, she blurted out. "Do you think it's almost curfew?"

"It wasn't at the forefront of my mind."

Hermione laughed, pulling away from his embrace and gathering some books into a neat pile on the table. She heard his sigh of defeat, making her smile as she tidied up. She didn't realise when their huge relationship alteration became comfortable with her.

Wait. What relationship? They didn't have a _relationship_. No, that was absurd.

"Oh, come on, Granger. You can't _seriously_ be thinking about _rules_ right now." He came up behind her, wanting those lips back on his.

"I'm always thinking about rules, Malfoy."

"When I'm blowing your mind, you shouldn't be."

She scoffed. "Please. I blew _your_ mind."

He smirked into her hair, spinning her around and running his nose down her jaw before stopping at the skin below her ear he later went onto kiss. "That, you did." He whispered into her ear huskily, making her realise that if she didn't leave at the moment, she would never.

"Harry and Ron are probably worrying."

"Fuck them."

"They're my friends."

"See previous advice."

"Godric, you're insufferable." She said half-heartedly, her heart too over-joyed to feel anger. Hermione grabbed her bag and started walking away.

"Didn't seem so insufferable when my tongue was down your throat." He pointed out loudly, making her flush and walk away quicker.

He watched her leave, unable to contain his smile.

* * *

Early the next morning, Theo tried to sneak back into the room.

It was too early for either of his room-mates to be up, and he was pretty agile—if he said so himself.

Unfortunately for him, Draco was the lightest sleeper known to mankind.

"Long night?" He asked as the other boy closed the door quietly behind him.

Theo jumped a little. "Gods, Malfoy." He breathed. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Nothing. I'm the perfect specimen."

"Oh, ha-_ha_."

"Blaise told me about your new stalk-ee. _Weaslette_? It's not happening, mate."

"And Granger _is_?" Theo retorted. "Off limits is exciting. Admit it."

"I didn't say it wasn't." He said. "I'm just warning you, Pothead may have an aneurysm." Draco paused. "On second thought, I'm with you."

"Go to sleep, you tosser."

"Eh."

Five minutes later, Draco spoke up again. "Hey, Theo?"

"..Mmph?"

"I—_shit_. I like her."

* * *

Of course you do, you stupid insomniac. Oh no. I've become one of _those_ writers.

R-e-v-i-e-w.


	14. Two Steps Back

Author's Note: Didn't expect to see me again so soon, did you? I like to mix it up a bit. My laziness, I mean. Sometimes it's _hard_ to be this lazy. The parts in italics is the conversation between Draco and Theo.

I know I shouldn't, but I've started another drabble series. It's called 'Snapshot', and you'll find it on my profile. It's just for those people who miss Guilty Pleasure. And, I hope it makes up for my lack of updating _this_ killer story.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 2, 060.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (14) Two Steps Back.

Reviews would be awesome.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

_"I—shit. I like her." _

_Theo leapt up in his bed, forgetting all about sleep._

_"What?" Draco could hear his grin as he asked._

_"I—don't know, any more."_

_"Don't give me that bollocks. What happened?"_

_Silence._

_"Are you drunk?"_

_"No."_

_"High?"_

_"No."_

_"Then, what happened?"_

_"We just...snogged."_

_"Damn." Theo whistled low._

_"I swear to Salazar, I don't even know how, man—I just. Fuck, I fancy her."_

* * *

"So, did you grow a pair and ask her, yet?"

Ron shushed his friend dramatically, leaning closer, so the girl sitting opposite them wouldn't overhear. "Keep your _voice down,_ Harry." The other boy held his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes. The Hall was loud, as usual. There was no way she'd pick up their chat in the countless conversations cutting through the air.

"No." The ginger sighed exasperatedly, before sneaking a glance at the Gryffindor seated right across from him. "I haven't. Damn it, mate. I can never get her alone."

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed, not watching his words as he should. "Ginny's always—" He cut himself off, abruptly. Staring wide-eyed at the brother of his crush, he tried to gauge the reaction.

"_Ginny_? Are you talking about—you fancy_ my sister_?"

The Boy Who Lived wanted nothing but to be The Boy Who Could Take Back Words. "I—you—what? _No_." He gave out a nervous chuckle. "Of course not."

Ron eyed him in a new light. "You're not shagging my sister, Harry."

A blush rose to Harry's cheeks, and was too flustered to make a coherent sentence. "I—er, wouldn't want to, anyway."

"Are you saying she's not good enough for you?"

"I didn't mean—"

"Because she is." Ron nodded slowly, staring down the other boy. "She's out of your league, even."

"Right, yeah." He had no choice but to agree, willing to do anything to change the topic of conversation. He'd let something spill that he had been keeping quiet for years. "So . . . food." The young Potter pointed his fork to the mixture of mash potatoes, boiled peas and beef slices coated in gravy that was piled on the Weasley's plate.

That seemed to work, as Ron was quickly devouring his meal without another care in the world.

Harry _phew_-ed.

...

"Is it just me..." Ginny started in her 'scandalous' voice. "—or is Draco Malfoy giving you sex-eyes?"

Hermione choked on her bite, taking a moment to calm the uncontrollable coughing and then downing a glass of water. "_Excuse_ me?"

The redhead leaned back, intrigued. "So it's not just me then."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She tried to dodge the topic, looking down at her food as an attempt to hide the flushing of her cheeks.

"Ooh, you're blushing." Ginny continued, poking her friend's cheek with her forefinger.

"I _am not_." She grit out in response.

"Alright, I get it." The younger girl smirked, toying her food with utensils. "But nosy-Ginny will be back; I warn you."

"I don't doubt it."

The moment Hermione's eyes caught _his_, she heated to the core. Ginny was right. His gaze was intense. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe normally. Her fingers started twitching by her plate, her foot tapping the ground insistently.

Over the last couple of days, they'd slightly avoided each other. He would brush his hands over hers at times, maybe whisper a few words as he walked past her. Hermione was sure she was going to explode if they didn't do anything in the next few hours. Instantly, she was shocked at her wanton thoughts. Well, she didn't mean it like _that_.

He smirked slowly, letting the expression ease onto his aristocratic features.

_Granger, stop staring._

The way his lips moved as he mouthed those words made her even more on edge.

She hid.

* * *

_"She's not going to have sex with you. Not any time soon. You know that, right?"_

_"Of course I know that."_

_"And you still like her?"_

_"I'm insane, I get it."_

_"That's a long time without sex, Malfoy."_

_"Are you trying to talk me out of it, or something, you fuckwit—"_

* * *

A pair of arms encircled Hermione's waist, but the rapid speed to her heartbeat wasn't due to surprise.

"Found you." The silky voice spoke into her ear, eliciting the response of a staggering breath.

With his torso pressed against her back, she couldn't form a coherent thought. She would have to grow accustomed to this — the excessive effect he had on her. She doubted she ever could.

Draco kissed her neck, softly, lingeringly. Hermione couldn't help but tip her head back and sigh.

"Hiding, Granger?" Even the whisper seemed loud, in the eerie quiet of the night.

"Not successfully, it seems."

He chuckled into her neck, and the motion vibrated through her.

The smile that resided at her lips then, hadn't visited in a long time. She clasped her hands over his resting on her stomach, leaning back into the embrace.

"This isn't happening." She didn't realise she had said it out loud until Draco had spun her around. Her back hit the railing.

He raised an eyebrow. "Scared?"

"Terrified."

Draco nodded. He leaned down, kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then fit his mouth over hers. He'd taken her breath away, and she didn't want it back if it meant stopping this. He had a way of completely unhinging her, overwhelming her, enticing her.

"Good," He murmured against her lips, before pulling her into another kiss.

_That makes two of us._

* * *

_"I'm just saying. That much, huh?"_

_"What?"_

_"You're in deep if you're willing to give up sex for so long."_

_"You make me sound like a man—whore."_

_"No, no. You're a high-end, man—prostitute."_

* * *

Another day, another whore.

This time, he was being confronted by none other than his own personal stalker, Pansy Parkinson.

"So, Drakie." She cooed, shoving him against a wall. He tipped his head back against it in frustration, but she must have registered it as a sign of pleasure. She dragged a hand down his torso, making him gag.

"Remember that night, after all that _firewhiskey_." She laughed. He grimaced. Her fingers climbed down his chest. "I had a really good time. Maybe we could—" Her hands travelled lower, until they were teetering by his belt.

He grabbed her wrist. "Fucking hell, Pansy."

"Come on, you know you want this." She pressed herself against him. "_You want me_."

Feeling particularly good that day, he leaned closer, placing his hand on her neck. He thought he heard the faint footsteps of someone walking away. His eyes darted to the corner, but no one was there.

He tilted his head closer to Pansy's, trying not to puke right there. "If you think I want you, Parkinson; you're stupider than I could ever imagine."

"Drakie—"

"For Merlin's sake, get over it." He pushed her away roughly. "I don't have time for this. Can't you find some other poor fellow to harass?"

"I love yo—" She cried.

"—no, you _don't_."

* * *

_"What about...you know..?"_

_"Obviously not."_

_"You're not going to have sex with someone else, right?" _

_"I don't know how to respond to that." _

_"I'm guessing 'no'."_

_"Aren't you just the sharpest tosser today?"_

_"My question is: you going to take care of yourself?"_

_"Why the fuck would you even want to know?"_

_"Blaise could give you tips, you know. He told about this nifty trick. You just sit on your left hand for a couple of minutes, then—"_

_"—fucking Merlin's bathrobe. Stop talking, Nott." _

* * *

With just the right amount of swagger in his step, Draco sauntered into the library.

The assortment of younger years stared on with adoration, thinly veiled disgust or fear - depending on the colours they wore - whilst those who knew his reputation well, began to whisper. _Why is he here? He's been a regular for the last few weeks, you know. No way. Yes way. _

The girl buried in her world of books was the only one not to notice his grand entrance. After a sharp look at all the watchers, they were back to whatever they were doing. No one noticed when he approached the girl with by the back of the library, at her favourite table. She looked up to see him making his way to her swiftly.

No one noticed as he caught her wrist as she tried to dodge around his form, taking her to an empty aisle of books that seemed like they hadn't been touched for years.

"Whoa, slow down." He chuckled a little. A low, soft sound that was as smooth as the rest of him. "Don't make me chase after you."

Words which would have excited her earlier, did nothing but anger her further.

She glared up at him icily, trying to convey her feelings through her sharp looks. "Leave me alone."

He blocked her way as she tried to route around him, gently pushing her further into the aisle. . "A little too late to be playing 'hard to get', don't you think, Granger?"

Her teeth clenched, and the words that she gritted out only confused him even more.

"I'm serious, Malfoy. Get out of my way before you regret it."

Half of his mind told him to laugh at the threat, but the only thing he did was raise a curious eyebrow. "Did I _miss_ something?"

Hermione stood her ground, jutting her chin up in defiance. Finally, the tosser got the hint. Something didn't let her refrain herself from explaining what stupid thing he had done now."I saw you with Parkinson. What, because I'm not putting out at first chance - you're getting it somewhere else? How was she, then? Shouldn't you be with her, right now? Shagging against a wall or something—"

"What are you even on—_oh._"

"Yes. _Oh_."

He placed a hand on the bookshelf by her shoulder, leaning into her. He didn't give her a chance to leave before he could figure out what exactly was happening.

"I never pegged you for the jealous type, Hermione." He said with a smirk that he hoped would change the almost-argument. Truth was, he was aroused by the primal jealousy. In fact, he couldn't stop dropping his gaze to her lips every time a breath escaped past them. A nagging voice in his head questioned why he wasn't already tasting her again. "It's a good look on you."

"I'm not jealous. Don't flatter yourself." She didn't sound convincing enough.

He rolled his eyes, amused. "I'd be surprised if _you_ believed that bullshit." He wanted to go onto correct her, tell her that nothing had happened between him and Parkinson—how _disgusting_.

"You didn't answer my question." Hermione dodged the topic, words laced with malice. "_How was she_?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Were the words he'd uttered. Clever move, Draco. _Anger_ the powerful witch.

"You're right." Her words were so cold, he suspected the temperature in the whole library had dropped several degrees. "She was obviously what you wanted. Experienced and experimenting? Or maybe wild and rough—?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Granger."

She carried on. "Besides, I'm not the first choice for sex. I forgot."

"This is insane." He shook his head, watching her with disbelief.

"I mean. I can't blame you. I _am_ the prude on the side."

"Just s_hut up_, will you?" He snapped, pushing himself away from her and creating as much distance as possible between them. His temper overtook. "Fuck this. I don't have to explain myself to you. I can do whatever the fuck I want, you understand? You," He pointed to her. "—are _not_ the girlfriend."

He could have sworn that her eyes were suddenly shiny with tears, but when she blinked and none escaped, he rethought the assumption. What he saw, instead of the large, curious chocolate brown orbs that he could read easily into, were hard brown pebbles that gave away nothing but indifference.

When she spoke, her voice was hard and cold, scarily similar to the tones he was capable of. "You're right. Again. Must feel good to be right all the time. If you were to say that 'this' _ended here—_"

"Hermione—"

He reached out, but was clutching at air.

"—you would've been right, once again."

* * *

Yeaaah.

So, I'm gonna' run now. Ooh, but heads up — I've already written the next chapter. 'Tis _short_ - even shorter than this, - but satisfactory; if you get me.

Revieeew.


	15. Excuses

Author's Note: So, I'm doing Work Experience right now. That means two weeks off school, so really, it's brilliant in every possible way. Anyway, enough about my event-less life; how're you guys doing? Liking this story, I hope. You'll...erm, _like_ this chapter. A lot. Damn, I've said too much. Just read away.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 2, 159.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (15) Excuses.

Reviews, my lovelies.

Yours truly,  
- LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

_The Next Day. _

"Hey,—'Mione?"

Hermione abruptly stopped, turning around to face one of her best friends.

"Ron, hi." She smiled brightly, holding her books to her chest.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his face turning blotchy. "So."

"So..?"

"I was hoping you could—we could—I—uh."

"Use your words, Ron." She laughed a little, making him smile adoringly.

"Right. I've gotta' get to, erm, practise. But, maybe we could—" He gave a sweet smile. "—go to Hogsmeade together."

Her eyes widened, lips parted in utter surprise. She hadn't seen this coming. "Are you—_asking me out_?"

Ron panicked. "Yeah, well, uh. If you don't want to, you don't have to. I was just—"

"No, Ron. I'm sorry." She reached out to touch his forearm. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just, surprised is all."

Harry appeared by the end of the hallway. "Ron, _on your bike, _mate!"

He started stepping backwards. "I'll talk to you at dinner. Think about it."

She continued to stand in the same spot for the next few minutes, long after he was out of sight. She couldn't believe what just happened. But, more importantly, she couldn't believe that she was _actually_ thinking about it. Maybe Hermione should. Maybe she should just flip off the blond twat in her life, and date Ron. A nice, cute, funny guy she'd known for years.

"Isn't this _cute_." Came a slow drawl behind Hermione, startling and pissing her off simultaneously.

When she caught a glimpse of him whilst turning around, words flew out of her mouth before they were registered.

"Oh, fuck off."

Hermione spun around and took off in the direction Ron had left in.

He tutted, stepping into stride with her. "Language, Granger."

"Does it offend you?" She bit at him, not sparing him a look as she continued down the hallway, hugging her books to her chest. She hoped it _did_ offend him. She hoped she was annoying him as much as he was annoying her.

"Turns me on, actually."

She was about to swear at him again, but after that comment, decided against it. She didn't even speak, frustrating him even more so than if she had retorted.

"So, what's the plan? Get married and have dozens of stupid, ugly children? Take on the role of housewife, full-time Mother Weasley?" He watched her stare out in front of them. "Doesn't suit you, if you ask me."

Her mouth opened to insult him, and she sure her fingers were itching to either slap him across the cheek, or tangle through his hair—she didn't know which.

"You sodding—" She noticed the emotion clearly on his face and expressed through his fisted hands. "—wait. You're _jealous_."

Draco shrugged a shoulder. "Don't see why I should be." It was an indirect hit at her friend, and it only made everything worse.

Hermione only gritted her teeth and spoke through them, trying to keep her anger at bay. "You insufferable git. You have _some_ nerve." She found herself shouting. Some of the students walking by started staring, so with a huff, she grabbed his elbow and yanked him into an empty classroom.

When the door was closed behind them, he leaned against it, crossing his arms and smirking.

"_Kinky_, Granger—"

"No. _No_, you can't...you can't _do_ this."

"_This_?" He pushed himself off the wall, sliding his hands into his pockets. The slow smirk that settled on his lips scared Hermione. It scared her because she realised she found it undeniably alluring.

She stepped back, much to his delight. "Uh—"

"Or this?" Malfoy continued, reaching out and grabbing her by the waist before stepping forward and swiftly eliminating the space between them. A sharp intake of breath was all it took for his blood to run south.

"Malfoy—"

"What is it, Granger?" His silky voice ran over her like warm butter, low and husky and music to her ears. "_Tell me what it is I do to you_."

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling their lower bodies flush against each other. His sharp hips pressed against her smooth curves, eliciting a strained moan past her parted lips. The feeling of his lips brushing so gingerly against the sensitive skin of her ear made shivers run down her spine.

"Stop." Hermione stressed when she found her voice. Her breathing became erratic, shallow and uncontrollable.

He watched her for a few moments, and just when she was about to disentangle herself from his hold, Draco dipped his head so their breaths mingled. She stared up into his eyes with a mixture of emotions she couldn't focus on.

One, no two, no _three _long seconds they stared.

"You're _mine_." He growled at last. Cupping her face, he brought her lips up to his. Shocked at first, she tried to pull away, but not a moment later, she kissed back. Her arms came to an instinctive position, wrapped around his waist. The books she held, dropped to the floor with a dull _thud_ lost in the background. His soft lips seemed to do everything that pushed her over the edge. He had his fingers in her hair, fisting around a mass of curls, sending pleasure through to her core.

Before she could react, he had spun them around, stepped forward causing her to step back—and had her against the cold wall; all without leaving her lips. She shuddered as the cool of the wall behind her sent chills down her spine, whilst the heat radiating off of him and his warm kisses overwhelmed her with sensations. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. She should have ignored him. Draco opened his mouth against hers, coaxing hers open slowly. She complied with a soft moan, her knees giving away when his tongue entered the warm cavern of her mouth. The hold he had on her, keeping her against the wall, allowed her to keep her balance and not crumple to the floor. Her thought process flew out of the window. His tongue did things which should have been illegal in some parts of the world, exploring every nook and cranny of her mouth before entangling with hers hotly. He tasted so good. So sweet, and spicy, and minty and _good_. She was addicted.

He tore his mouth away to catch a moments breath, placing his large, warm hands on her hips. Her hands disappeared into his hair, an action she barely even remembered through the fuzz. His lips reattached themselves to her skin, however, the second she got her breath back. Hermione's heart stuttered as he peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across her neck and collarbone. He fisted a hand in her hair, pushing it out of his way and allowing a whole expanse of skin to be attacked with his talented, teasing lips.

His nose brushed her neck as he found a spot that made her squirm. Without hesitation or warning, he bit down on it.

Her head tipped back, her body arcing into him in an uncontrollable response. The fingers in his hair tugged softly, and she angled her head so he could do it again.

When it was his tongue that came out to swipe over the sensitive skin, she exhaled hard.

"_Draco_."

He murmured approval of her reaction, pressing into her so they were touching _everywhere_. Never, had he felt so alive. He sucked on the love bite, making her breathing irregular and his mind completely blank. The skilful teamwork of his lips and tongue soothed the bite, and as he pulled away, he admired the hickey that stood out from the rest of her blemish-free skin. He'd marked her. Claimed her. She was his.

The darkness of her half-lidded eyes made him groan, especially when she pulled him down for another kiss. He smiled against her mouth, and she gave into one too, before blowing his mind with her incredibly quick learning of his techniques.

"Hermione," Was the throaty, husky name that escaped when she started softly sucking on his bottom lip. He gripped the underside of her knee, pulling it up to his waist, before letting her catch on and wrap her legs around his torso firmly.

Swiftly, so casually that a barely-registered jealous pang shot up her chest, he had spun them around and perched her on a desk. She locked her ankles at his back, pulling him as close as possible as she gently sucked on his tongue.

He was about to lose control,—there was absolutely no space between them, _damn it_—his hands were desperate to slip under her skirt, but she was breaking away, breathing heavily. "Stop. We can't. Not—now—no."

The beating of his heart was too hard and fast for him to disagree. A little more, and he was sure he was going to implode. He nodded once, letting his hands drop to brace the wooden table on either side of her, before touching his lips to hers once more, making sure it lingered and left her needy.

When he pulled away, stepping back in the process, her eyes were closed and her lips slightly puckered. He smirked, watching her compose herself and blink at him, one, twice. For a split second, he thought that she was going to start regretting what just occurred and he wouldn't let that happen.

Relief washed over him, reminding him of the _cold_ shower he had to take after this, when she bit her lip, giving him a warm smile. There was a glint in her eyes, her hair was tangled, her lips were swollen and her cheeks were painted with a blush.

She was beautiful.

Her mouth opened and closed, but no words were spoken.

Draco smirked wider, leaning against an opposite desk. "Use your words, Granger." He said with a smug shrug that said, 'yeah, I know'.

Hermione's smile grew wider, prettier, and she looked at him intently as if deciphering something.

He raised an eyebrow. She was _waiting_ for something.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, Granger." Draco rolled his eyes. "I see through your bullshit."

"Must you be so crude?"

His smirk widened as he slithered his way back into her personal space. "You love it."

She didn't respond to that, only searching his face before sighing and dropping her legs to rest over the desk. "_Draco_—"

"Ooh, I'm in trouble." He pushed himself against her, his eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint. He reached out his fingers, intending on brushing away the hair in her eyes.

"—I can't do this."

The hand stopped in the air, forming into a fist before dropping back to his side. He only pulled away slightly, not willing to slam the walls back up until she explained the mental illness she suffered from _now_.

_Oh, for fuck's sake. _

"What _the fuck_ are you playing at, Granger?" He grit out, eyes storming.

She stared at the floor momentarily, before looking back up at his livid face. "You said it yourself. I'm not your girlfriend. And I'm definitely not some whore you snog whenever you're bored or lonely."

Draco resisted the urge to flail his arms about. "When do you _ever_ listen to anything _I_ say?" He hissed, clenching his jaw and inwardly hating himself for his lack of control over words earlier.

"Look, I can't deal with—"

"Hermione, _enough_." He sighed exasperatedly. "You will hear me out. You will shut the hell up for a bloody second so I can tell you how _intolerable_ you're being."

When she didn't retaliate, he fisted his hands into her sweater and held her still.

"Nothing happened with Parkinson." He whispered, eyes flicking from her eyes to her lips. "Trust me, even the thought disgusts me."

He sounded sincere, and she couldn't help but grudgingly admit that he was telling the truth.

"I don't care—"

"—_Yes_, you do. And the fact that I find you absolutely ravishing when you're crazy with jealousy aside; you need to comprehend that you're the bitch that got into my head and never left."

His use of words weren't the _best_, but the message made her heart soar.

"So, for the love of Merlin, just admit that you want me so I can do what I want to do every time you open that mouth."

The way she bit her lip didn't help with his desire. It was all he took not to groan at her unintentional prompts. Finally deciding, she pulled his head down and latched her lips onto his in a feral, passionate kiss that fulfilled his thirst. He made a move to deepen it, when she was pulling away all over again.

"What now?" He growled, having had enough of her continuous teasing.

Hermione smiled against his mouth. "This better be a monogamist thing, because I'm not taking any of your double standards shite—"

Draco chuckled, humming approval. "I'm all yours, love."

* * *

*Fist pump* Woo, finally. Come on, I deserve a bloody high five for that shit up there. Took me long enough, I know.

Your reviews make me so happy, you wouldn't even believe.


	16. Clarity

Author's Note: Well hello, everyone. I realise this update is very late, albeit characteristically. If you've been with me through most of this story, you'll know very well how much I suck at updating quickly. To all the wonderfully new readers: welcome to a whole lot of long-awaited updates and barely satisfactory Dramione. Oh, and here come the excuses! *Clears throat* I have honestly had absolutely nein time to myself lately – until today, wahay for weekends – which basically means me squeezing a couple of fanfiction reads in edgewise and no writing. My reason for such a long-winded Author's note, you ask? Well, since I've been practically AWOL with you amazing people in my previous, two-lined notes, I decided you deserved to read a whole bunch of unnecessary, irrelevant babble instead of basking in the Dramione below.

I realised, whilst writing this, how much I miss Theo and Blaise with Draco. God, they're such good characters, and I haven't included them in, what, two chapters, or something? We need some serious Draco/Theo/Blaise action in this thing. Well do not fret, those who were thinking the same—and those who weren't, but are _now_: even though this chapter doesn't include them, the next will. Definitely. And that's a promise from yours truly.

**Huge thank you to my new Beta, SerpentofDarkness for beta-ing this chapter for me. You're stratospherically awesome. **

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 2, 323.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (16) Clarity.

Always,  
— LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

Hermione Granger wasn't in love with Ron Weasley.

And that was that, the cold, hard truth. In fact, she wasn't even in _like_ with him. The friendship they had moulded and worked on throughout their years together was destined to remain just that. Friendship which hopefully lasted until the end of their days. Where the rest of the school had gotten the idea of them _dating_, was beyond her vast knowledge. She hadn't even taken it seriously, barely paid it any heed, until she was confronted by Ron, himself.

It was certain she would have to face the music sooner or later, and even though later would be a preferred option; Hermione didn't have much of a choice.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the Gryffindor Common Room, having realised that successfully avoiding her friends at dinner wasn't going to solve all her problems. The smile she had planned was to be plastered on her face, ended up being a real one as she stumbled upon her two best friends playing chess.

"Hey, guys." Taking a seat on the sofa parallel to their game, she tucked her legs under herself and tried to find comfort from the impending doom.

Harry was winning, but Ron still stared intently at the chessboard as if it would change the course of the game. When Harry looked up to see her, he stiffened and stood up brusquely, offering an apologetic smile which vanished as soon as it had appeared.

"Uh, I've got to—_do things_." He tried, ruffling his hair and starting to walk back towards his dorm. "Oh yeah." He looked from Ron to Hermione. "_Lots_ of things to do." He closed the door behind him, leaving them alone.

Hermione crossed her arms, shooting a suspicious look at Ron, who blushed deeply and jumped from his position on the floor, before draping over the sofa next to her.

"Hey."

"Hello, Ron." The words came out quite stiff and cold. She cleared her throat, trying to relax her tone. "I'm sorry for not speaking to you yesterday—"

He took her hand. "It's fine, 'Mione. We're alone now."

"Right, uh." She pried his fingers off her skin, edging away from him discreetly. _Relax, Hermione. Just, relax. It's Ron. _"We need to talk."

He scooted closer, smiling suggestively. "Yes we do."

"I think you have the wrong—"

"—Hermione, can _I_ talk for a minute? Please?"

The way he looked, eyes wide and pleading, didn't give her a chance to say no. She nodded, smiling slightly.

He took her hand again, but this time, she let him. Hermione tried not to stiffen, or at least let him know. The comparison her mind came up with was purely accidental. However, she was sure that there was something in Draco's touch. Maybe he charmed himself. It must have been something, because as Ron touched her, she felt close to nothing.

"I know this is surprising, but I've been building up the courage to talk to you about this for _ages_. I like you, bloody hell, I fancy you. A lot. Ever since you came into our carriage and fixed Harry's glasses with that stupid know-it-all voice."

His sincerity broke her heart. Part of her wanted to make him smile, make him happy and say yes. But that sympathetic part was soon crushed with the thought of Malfoy.

"I think it's time for you to admit it too."

Without thinking twice, Hermione yanked her hand back and fisted it. Soon overridden with anger, she glared at him steely.

"Excuse me?" She seethed, searching his face for any signs of humour. Maybe he was joking. She sure hoped, for his good, that he was joking.

Ron stumbled over his words once understanding her reaction. "I don't get it—'Mione—I know you like me—"

"You know nothing of the sort, Ronald." She spoke slowly. "I can't believe how pretentious you're being. How can you just _assume_ my feelings for you? Which, for one thing, aren't even what you think they are."

"'Mione, I know what you're doing—"

"Oh, _do_ enlighten me, Ronald. You seem to know everything about me, anyway." She stood up, only one step away from placing her hands on her hips.

He stood with her, reaching out to bring her close, when she created even more distance between them. "You're playing hard to get. But I swear you don't have to. We can finally be—"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake. You still don't understand, do you?"

"Hermione, what—"

She tried to soothe her anger. "Look, Ronald. I'm sorry for lashing out at you. I just, I can't do this. _We_ can't do this."

Ron seemed to finally comprehend everything, however slow it dawned upon him. "Why?"

He sounded so defeated, so broken. Her friendship kicked in, and she tried to console him. "It's not that I don't like you, Ron. I love you. But as a friend. Please try to accept that." Her eyes went to the clock. "I have to run, but I'll talk to you later. When we've both cooled down, alright?"

Not looking back, Granger walked away.

Ron slumped back down onto the sofa, when Harry took a seat beside him, having heard most of the conversation.

"I'm sorry, mate."

The red head turned to his friend, smiling slightly. "Why? Didn't you hear, Harry? She loves me. _Loves me_, Harry."

"Uh," Harry started, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think she meant it like—"

"I just need to brush up on my 'asking out' skills. It's all good, mate. I'll make a grand gesture. Something she'll go mental over."

"Ron, maybe we should—"

"—Girls like flowers, right? Come on, Harry. I'm gonna' need all the help I can get."

The Boy Who Lived stared after him, sighing loudly. "Oh, bloody hell."

* * *

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick_—

"Will that insufferable thing ever shut up?"

Hermione laughed softly, snuggling back into his chest whilst keeping a firm hold on the book in front of her. "It's a clock, Draco."

She saw him wave a hand from the corner of her eye, and not a second later, the ticking abruptly stopped. When she paused to make sure she wasn't imagining it, she found that the ticking had indeed silenced.

"Temper, temper." She rolled her eyes, sarcasm seamlessly wrapping around her words. He chuckled and she revelled in the sound she had caused. She found herself filled with the desire to do it again. To make him laugh, as before three days ago, it seemed blasphemous to even believe Draco Malfoy _could_ laugh.

Three days. It had been three days since he kissed her that day in the classroom. The pace of her feelings for him had to be dangerous after only a few days together.

Draco slid his hands down her arms, bringing his lips down to the crook of her neck. Her mind blanked, the thoughts leaving just as well as they appeared. He smirked into her warm, soft skin when she shivered. The rain pattered on the window they sat by, creating the perfect atmosphere for their rendezvous.

He'd transfigured the windowsill into window-seat, before sliding across it with Hermione between his legs; about an hour ago. The position, with her back against his torso allowed every physical reaction he had on her to be noted with an amused glint in his eyes.

"Have you finished the page?"

"How do you expect me to focus on the book—" He started, his soft and low voice ran over her skin like a warm breeze. It took self-restraint not to glance at the window and question whether it was open or not. She felt him slowly peppered kisses down the slope of her neck. Hermione softly hummed in reply and he felt a smile tug on his lips with affection. "—with something so wonderfully distracting in the way?"

She scoffed instantly, knowing his diverting techniques all too well.

"You realise any other girl would swoon, and melt into a helpless puddle at those words?"

"You realise if I was any other girl, neither of us would be here right now?"

"Hmm." He said with interest. "I would think you, as a _different_ girl, would be pining after me, then? And, with my devilishly handsome self, I'd be off searching for someone I _just can't_ have?"

She gave it a thought. "Exactly."

He chuckled. "Fair enough."

Hermione elbowed him gently. "Come on, this is one of my favourite books." She found herself pouting, anxious to turn the page and be presented with a whole new spread of words.

"We could be doing so many more interesting things than reading, Granger. _This_," He skimmed fingers down her leg. She felt her skin crackle with electricity at the contact through the layer of fabric. "for instance..."

She released a shaky breath, gathering her thoughts. "Not..._fair_...Malfoy." Her eyes narrowed half-heartedly as she turned her head to glare at him.

Grinning ever so slightly, he let her have her way, because, really, she was just too beautiful to say no to at that point. Her hair, due to his persistence, was free and flowing past her shoulders. And that nose, scrunched up with the almost-frown fixed perfect lips made him unusually affectionate.

"Alright, Granger. I'll give you this round." He was sure it was a first, letting someone else win for once. It was surprising and a little frightening. Draco tipped his head back, resting it on the wall behind him.

She watched as his hands, as if on their own accord, came to rest above hers, his fingers slotting through the gaps between hers as they held the book in place. Her lips seemed permanently fixated into a smile when around him lately.

"Read me this muggle crap." He whispered, keeping his tone intimate.

Rolling her eyes, and resisting the urge to kiss him just to shut him up — well maybe not _only_ to shut him up — Hermione turned the page and began reading in a gentle, soft voice that did nothing but cause Draco to hang on to every word.

* * *

"Weasley." Snape snapped, eyes narrowing into slits at the cowering child seated in the front row. "Do you know the answer?"

Ron's eyes darted around, landing anywhere but at the Potions Professor, seeking help from his classmates. All he received was a sympathetic shrug from Harry. "Er, no. I mean—yes!—no!"

"Oh, spit it out, you blubbering fool."

Draco sniggered, earning an elbow to his stomach from his partner. Coughing, he glowered at her.

"I don't know, Professor." Ron admitted, his face flushing crimson. He braced himself, as if awaiting a smack to the head or something of the sort.

Snape merely rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Of course you don't." His dark eyes swept over the rest of the students in the dungeon. "N.E.W.T.S are not far enough, it seems."

Hermione's quill moved at it's own rate, whilst everybody had theirs resting in their ink pots, unused and unnecessary at that point in the lesson.

The Professor stormed back to his seat at the front of the class, rubbing his temples once had enough of their inability to do anything right. "The ingredients are in the cupboard, as are the equipment you shall need. First pair to complete the potion properly will get to find pride in the fact that they're capable of beating a room of idiots, and _Gryffindors_."

The class erupted into a mixture of groans and sniggers.

Theo looked towards the table at the back, where Draco and Hermione sat. He watched with a smirk as Hermione left to go to the cupboard, and not two minutes later, his blond haired friend discreetly sauntered the same way, once everyone was back in their seats, ready to start.

Glancing from his watch to the now-empty table, his smirk turned into a full out grin as the two minute point was surpassed.

"What are _you_ grinning about?"

Theo turned his head to face his Potions partner who eyed him cautiously. He leaned back, before realising he was atop a stool and leaning back any further would result in him making an arse of himself.

"Well." He smirked suggestively, and quickly glancing to the empty desk from the corner of his eye.

She got the hint, taking a seat next to him and sorting out the potion ingredients. A grin settled on her lips and she turned her head to raise her eyebrows at him.

"_Really_?"

"Oh, yes." He rested an elbow on the desk casually.

"No way." Ginny smiled wider, leaning closer and letting Theo get a whiff of her perfume. It was distracting, to say the least. "I knew it. I bloody knew it."

She looked so triumphant, so happy with the news that he couldn't help but soften his gaze, and take her in.

The red head raised her eyebrows at him. "What?"

"What?" He retorted automatically.

"You're staring at me." She blushed and he noticed with a mental fist pump.

Theo knew his way with the girls, and even though he didn't quite whore around, he knew just how to get her flustered. He leaned closer to her, staring her in the eye so she had no choice but give him her whole attention.

His voice dropped to a whisper, and he enunciated to make sure she noticed the perfect curve of his lips. "Can you blame me?"

Laughing softly, she pushed him away by his shoulder, before running a hand through her fiery hair. "Not happening, Slytherin."

"I beg to differ, Red."

"Oh?" She said, and he wondered why he hadn't seen it before. All of this beauty, just bubbling under the surface. "You want to bet?"

"Trust me." He scoffed, turning to the task at hand. The cauldron started bubbling, so he arranged the ingredients on a chopping board. "That won't end well."

* * *

Ooh, and the drama ensues.

Just because I don't think I say it enough: **I love you guys.**


	17. Labels

Author's Note: Did you miss me? No? Oh, okay. That's cool. I'm cool. It's cool. *sniffles*

My odd intros aside; I just wanted to give a thanks to all of my lovely, account-less reviewers. It's really annoying not being able to thank you guys for the all the wonderful feedback. If you're like I was, and kind of _stalked_ the website for a while, which involved constant visits to the stories I read in case of an update, any update in fact, then trust me when I say: give in. Give in to the fandoms. Make an account, if you can. It'll really pay off. You might even start writing your own stories. I'll be able to thank you personally, as well.

And of course, there are my amazing reviewers who _do_ have an account — thank heavens for that. I don't know what I'd do if I wouldn't be able to talk to you amazing people. I may seem distant at times, but please remember that I read everything you say and appreciate every word thoroughly.

I have _so many_ Dramione scenes planned, and trust me when I say I want to put them all into one chapter. Sadly, I can't. I'm actually confused as to when they will appear, bearing in mind the seriousness of their relationship will obviously change over time.

**Thank you ever so much, SerpentofDarkness, for Beta-ing. **

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 3, 427.

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (17) Labels.

Always,  
— LiveLoveLaugh.

* * *

Hermione made her way down the corridor, softly humming to herself as a sense of serenity overwhelmed her.

Just then, someone chose to clamp smooth, long fingers on her wrist. She had one moment, maybe less, of registering the sudden sensation prickling over her skin; and then the sunlight streaming through the large windows were replaced by partial darkness. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and she found her back against a wall.

"What—?" She caught a glimpse of tousled, silvery blond hair and her heart rate calmed for a split second before springing back up again; though not due to surprise. "Malfoy! Godric, you scared the life out of me."

He smirked, and she only just noticed the curtain wrapping them both into their own little world.

"I missed you too, Granger."

Her eyes searched for intruders, and she tried to push out of his grasp. "_Draco_. Someone might see us."

His strong arms were unmoving, warm and comforting on her small body. He ran the tip of his nose over her cheek, letting the sweet scent of her hair overwhelm his senses. She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed without notice. Taking advantage, he brushed warm lips over her blushing skin, so she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"Let them." He whispered into her ear, before pulling back and ever-so-gently touching their lips together. As a man of pride, he wanted her to surrender to him. It almost wasn't fair how much of an impact she had on him. He needed to see _her_ crave, for once.

Her shaky breath mingled in the small gap between them, and she let her hands travel up his shirt, coming to grip his tie tightly and pull him as close as possible. Her words were barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for someone so close to hear.

"Damn you."

Draco grinned against her mouth, pulling back a millimeter. She was getting impatient with his teasing. He saw it in the furrow of her eyebrows, and only grinned deeper, before moulding their lips together, much firmer this time. Surrendering completely, Hermione tugged on his tie, one hand sliding up to entangle its fingers in his hair. A stroke of his tongue against her bottom lip and she was instantaneously liquid in his hands. His hands rested on her hips, large and warm and safe; her support. The way he held her, with a mixture of protectiveness and possessiveness made the beating of her heart rapid and irregular. With her hands reaching above her height to reach him, her shirt came undone from its previous position as tucked inside her skirt. His thumb, therefore, brushed the smooth skin of her hip, as the oxford rode up her torso slightly. Unable to hold it, she gasped from the contact, pressing herself to every inch of him as the need for more coursed through her body. Everywhere he touched, he lit an inferno beneath her skin.

She had never been kissed like this. Her first kiss, admittedly, was a fumbling of lips and limbs, resulting in displeasure from her part, at least. This, well, it was nothing like _that_.

Draco unlatched himself abruptly, opening his eyes to see the bliss on her face morph into one of annoyance. She glared at him, about to pull him back when he stopped whatever words in her mouth from reaching her lips with a swipe of his forefinger against her hip under her shirt.

"Take it easy, Granger." He leaned very close, though not close enough for her liking. "_Someone might see us_."

Her glare was taken a step further, and soon, daggers were shooting through his eyes. He promptly burst into laughter, real and free. Her almost-anger crumbled at the sound, at the sight of him chuckling so heartily, and she found herself smiling along.

"I hate you." She told him.

Draco smiled, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. She loved seeing him like this, with all his walls down in front of her. "You do it terribly."

He suddenly pulled back, much to her disappointment. Quirking an eyebrow, he pulled their lower bodies closer, rubbing patterns into the small of her back, through the scratchy fabric of her shirt. The barrier subconsciously irked her, and she instantly flushed at the thought.

"You're not in class?"

"I've got a free period." She just registered his lack of attendance. "Don't _you—_"

"I think I can afford to miss one Transfiguration."

She slapped his chest, reeling back and scowling at his actions. He didn't flinch or even bat an eyelash, just took her hand and pulled them both out of hiding."You're skiving off?!"

"Hey, relax." He absently laced their fingers together, making their way through the empty corridor. Her heart skipped at the gesture. "I'll make up for it; if I have to." At her stern look, he sighed. "Fine, I'll make up for it. _Christ_."

"Yes you will." She said firmly, reaching up to kiss his jaw tenderly and giving him a pleased smile that made everything better.

Draco rolled his eyes, the words spilling out of his mouth before he got a chance to stop them. "Serves me right for having the bookworm extraordinaire for a girlfriend."

He sensed her stop and tense. Turning back, he saw her standing stiffly, her face giving away nothing, with their entwined hands reached out between them. He had the sudden urge to backtrack. Never before had he said something so intimate. What was he thinking? Hell. Bloody hell.

"Girlfriend?" She asked simply, the word echoing through the hallway.

Every muscle in Draco's body tensed. Well, what in the name of Salazar would he do now?_ Deny, deny, deny,_ his mind screamed at him.

"I, uh." Stopping before it got worse, he mentally kicked himself for being such an idiot. Malfoys didn't stutter. After a split second, he composed himself, masking his face with a look of indifference. What he said, however, threw all of his hard work to the wind.

"Depends. Do you want me to?" He said slowly, deliberately though quite cautiously.

Hermione stared at him for as painfully long as she could, before her face broke out into a slow, radiant smile. Her teeth snagged on her bottom lip as she stepped forward courageously, eliminating all the distance between them.

"What do _you_ want?" She asked quietly, locking eyes with him.

He knew. He did. He actually did.

"I want you." His eyes were intense, boring into her very soul. "Each and every way I can."

She smiled, heat blossoming in her cheeks. He'd done something right. He kissed her then, in the middle of the hallway, only so their lips touched.

Many minutes later, Draco cupped her face in his soft hands and kissed her forehead.

"Come on. I know a place."

* * *

Staring up at the clouds from the sanctuary which was the empty Quidditch pitch, was quite serene.

The sky was perfect this time of the day, a startlingly blue. The clouds, however, were the real showstoppers. White, fluffy and varying in size, shape and beauty as they slowly skid across the pale blue backdrop; they forced an overwhelming sense of peace to fill your mind. The towers aligned across the oval stadium stood tall and proud, the flags billowing in the gentle breeze.

Amongst the peak of morning nature, sat two very different teenagers, on one of the stands that wasn't too high, but not too low. Somewhere in the middle of the rows, where the sky was easily awed at, but the sight of the bright colours and greenery was not obstructed. Sitting beside each other, barely a sliver of a gap between them, they ignored time and all of its consequences.

Draco knew that Hermione had seen the pitch in the evenings, when the games were held. It was only through the morning and afternoon when it was at its most beautiful. It was warm, and their House robes were draped across the seats below theirs, along with their sweaters and Hermione's hair tie. He had insisted on the freedom of her locks, as the image of the brown curls blowing gently across and behind her face in the wind was quite a sight to behold. His hair, almost a honey blond in the sunlight, and tousled with the wind's wispy fingers, was her favourite vision in the whole of the surroundings.

She had been surprised when he'd brought her here, expecting at least one team to be practising at the time. It was huge, so bloody massive, but ironically, it was as if it was a secret, open space for the two of them. Her eyes were focused on her twiddling hands, instead of the sky like his, as a question felt heavy on the tip of her tongue. It was stupid, and probably none of her business, but she just couldn't shake it off.

"Go on." Draco suddenly sighed, rolling his eyes. At her widened, caught eyes, he explained. "There's something on your mind. Out with it."

He nudged her knee with his, and she brushed a strand of hair out of her face only to have it blown back into her vision.

"What do you mean?" Hermione said, trying and failing to sound convincing.

He gestured to her face, smirking. "You can't even _act _dumb."

Her cheeks reddened. "It's nothing, really—"

"—You know," His lips were against her ear. "I could just drag it out of you."

She sighed, knowing his power all too well. Her Gryffindor courage spoke aloud the words.

"Did you ever think about...joining The Order? You know, when you could?"

Draco stared blankly at her for a second, pulling back before his eyes flicked down and then up into the distance. He didn't answer.

She was regretting it instantly, backtracking rapidly. His distance caused her pain. "I didn't mean to sound so—_gosh_, I'm so sorry—I hadn't realised what I was saying until I _actually_—"

"Yes."

Hermione stopped mid-apology, her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. "Yes?"

"Yes. I'd thought about it." He said slowly, lifting his eyes to hers and giving her such a meaningful look her skin throbbed with the need to be closer to him. She wanted to feed that burning hunger in her stomach that wanted nothing but to be as close to him as possible. But she didn't feel like he would approve, not after her nosy, out-of-line question earlier—

Draco pulled her against him, his hand brushing across her back and coming to rest at her waist. The tension around her heart unravelled, leaving behind a trail of want. She turned to him completely, not compromising his touch on her body, but draping her leg over his knees as he tilted his body towards her, tugging her even closer and hitching her leg up closer so it was more comfortable. He placed his other hand on her tights-covered-knee, his thumb brushing against her thigh and sending shivers up her spine that had nothing to do with the cold and pulled his palm back so it rested the hip closest to him.

He dropped his head towards her, and she tilted hers closer until they were the only people in the world.

"You think I'm a coward." He whispered.

On their own accord, her eyes widened. "Why on earth would you say that?" She asked softly, surprise lacing her words together.

His eyes desperately searched hers. "I would."

"Well I _don't_." Hermione took his face in her hands, pulling her head away slightly to sweep her eyes over his sharp features. He sighed.

"I'd thought about it. Merlin, I'd thought about it more than I can bring myself to admit." He told her, the words flowing out as his mind registered the only person he could really pour his heart out to, was in his arms. His eyes landed on the arm which held his biggest regret."But, honestly, Granger. You're delusional if you think they would have accepted me."

"You don't know that." She argued matter-of-factly, entangling her fingers with his hair lazily. She smirked a little, trying to lighten up the situation. "_I've_ accepted you, countless flaws and all."

He smirked, pulling her shirt out of her skirt in a swift motion she didn't even notice. "Now, that's because you find me so unnervingly sexy, you'd do _anything_ to get in my pants."

Hermione laughed lightly against his neck, the sound reverberating through his bones. "I doubt you could say the same for Harry and Ron."

"Don't rule them out, as yet." Draco perked up, his witty comebacks like music to her ears. The pain in his eyes had disappeared, replaced with a glint of mirth. "I'm a good looking guy. I'm sure I'd get Pothead and Weasel to easily swoon at my handsomeness."

"Oh shut it, you cocky little—"

"—Just stating facts here—"

"—Sometimes I wonder if your ego gets_ too heavy_ to carry around—"

"—It would if I wasn't so perfectly able to endure its weight—"

"—You're utterly infuriating, you know that—" She said with a helpless smile, nodding at him. Gently laying a hand on his cheek, she brushed her fingertips over his soft skin.

"—I have _you_ to remind me, don't I?"

She wasn't paying much attention, too focused on his pink, perfectly shaped lips. "Mhm." She pulled his lips down to hers, moulding them together. He responded instantly, without hesitation, pulling her against him and smirking into her mouth once she sighed that way she did whenever he kissed her. His whole posture was smug, and she inwardly rolled her eyes.

"Shut up." Hermione murmured, even though he said nothing, to which he replied by kissing her hungrily. His hands travelled everywhere, as his torso pressed against hers, making her almost implode.

His tongue, sweet and cool against her lips made her chest tighten and mouth tingle. She parted her lips, winding her fingers into his hair, tightening her hold. She dragged her teeth over his bottom lip, igniting his restraint and making him growl against her mouth. Draco, with his hands on her hips, picked up her, and himself to a standing position with ease, setting her on the bench above theirs, not breaking contact. Hermione laughed softly at his urgency as he slipped into the gap between her legs, smiling as she laughed. Her foot inched up his leg, before wrapping around his hip firmly. Around him, her confidence shone, her behaviour quite un-Hermione like. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth, lightly sucking and nipping with his ever so talented teeth. Her hands caught his tie, and soon she was attempting to undo the knot. After a few frustrating struggles, Draco chuckled into her mouth, guiding her fidgeting fingers to pull at the sides.

He pulled back, wondering when the hell kissing became so fun. Never before had he enjoyed kissing a girl so much. Before, it had been all hurried snogging and mindless sex.

"Well, well, well." A slow, amused drawl called out from behind the couple.

Merlin's balls.

* * *

Draco swore under his breath, knowing the voice of Blaise Zabini all too well. Hermione looked over his shoulder, towards the pitch with a mixture of horror and anxiousness. He turned, to find his 'friends' smirking at them, arms crossed over their chest as if they had achieved something huge.

"I would tell you two to get a room, but I see you've already got that covered." Theo told them, quirking a suggestive eyebrow.

The blond groaned, subconsciously taking a seat beside Hermione as he glared at the two other Slytherins quickly making their way up the stands. "Now? You two just _had_ to find me now?"

They approached them, two steps at a time, as if his comment was some sort of invitation.

"Now, now, Draco." Blaise patronised teasingly, once having reached the caught couple and flopping down on the seats below theirs, sitting backwards to see them. "I think Hermione here would like to be introduced properly."

"It's _Granger_ to you, Blaise." Draco retorted sharply, when Hermione draped her fingers over his upper arm and a string of tinkling laughter left her reddened lips. She untangled her limbs from his, much to his displeasure, and sat the usual way on the stand.

"Honestly, Draco." The Gryffindor said, rolling her eyes affectionately. She took her fingers away from spreading warmth through his being and reached her hand out to shake as Theo sat - more like, sprawled on the bench - next to Blaise.

Theo shook first, an easy smile on his face. "Nott. Theodore Nott. How nice it is to meet you properly, _Granger_." He finished, casting a glance at Draco, who rolled his eyes and leaned back, annoyed to have lost his girlfriend to the idiots he called friends.

Huh. Girlfriend.

That word seemed to roll off his tongue quite easily, didn't it?

Hermione smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as the wind toyed with it again. "Don't be silly, Theodore. Call me Hermione."

Nott tossed his friend a wink, before clarifying things. "Merlin, Hermione. No one calls me that, unless it's my mother and I've broken yet _another_ priceless china pot."

Her eyes were bright in the sun, the only thing Draco could focus on. "I'll remember that." She said with amusement, then turned to Blaise who was waiting patiently.

"Well, finally." He groaned, shoving Theo in the stomach with his elbow. "Theo has a tendency to _hog_ pretty things."

"I don't know whether or be flattered, or offended that you just referred to me as a _thing_." She raised her eyebrows, and Draco smirked at her, leaning forward and kissing her temple. Theo watched on in satisfaction.

Blaise flushed. "I'd forgotten I was speaking to a witch capable of opinions."

"Nice save." She laughed, scooting closer to Draco as she sensed his frustration. "Blaise?"

"You know it." He winked, then reached into his bag and pulled out a handful of chocolate frog cases.

Theo stepped in to explain. "We brought peace offerings."

Draco, at his point, plucked a box from Blaise's palm, and tore it open. "You prats are going to pay for this later." He muttered.

"You know," Theo smirked, popping one whole into his mouth. "I think it'll be worth it, after meeting the girl you keep ditching us for."

The blond broke the frog in two, offering half to Hermione. He wanted to feed her, but he'd never hear the end of it in front of them. She took it, and soon she was nibbling on it so adorably, Malfoy had to keep himself from mauling her.

"And here I was, under the delusion that _I_ was Draco's only friend." Hermione perked up. "You've heard his attempts at civility, haven't you?"

Laughter spread through the small group. Blaise's shoulders shook with barely contained chuckles. "He's a miserable git, isn't he?"

"_I don't do small talk_." Theo drawled in a low, slow, dry voice.

"_You peasants don't deserve my presence_." Blaise waved away imaginary people.

"_Psht. I don't care of your trivial matters. Let's talk about how magnificent I am_." Hermione joined in, laughing the most she had in a long while.

"Why don't we do _just_ that." Draco cut in, sliding in closer to Hermione, who leaned into him, taking his hand in her lap as she laughed with his friends.

"Because, Drakie." Blaise smirked, opening another chocolate frog box up to his hungry eyes. "We're liking Granger far too much to let her leave now."

Hermione turned to face Draco, their faces inches away at the movement. The other two Slytherins conjured up a little conversation to give them privacy.

He ran a finger down her temple, her cheek, ghosting across her jaw line. "I have idiots as friends." He whispered.

"I like them. Alot." She told him matter-of-factly, kissing him briefly to persuade him smoothly.

"I knew the frogs would work!" Blaise intervened loudly.

"Fuck you, it was my idea."

Draco grinned at Hermione once the two quarreled. "Let's see how long that lasts, Granger."

* * *

Oh, Theo and Blaise. You jokers, you.

Reviews are like big chocolate chip cookies. Who wouldn't want those? *Terrible attempt at winking*

I've been thinking about changing my username on here for a while now. Any of you have any suggestions? If so - and I'm hoping you do, because I seem to be hopeless at this - PM me, or write it in a review. It'll be much appreciated.


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